


by my side

by MissLii



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Mpreg, Mpreg Liam, Pining, Pregnancy Kink, Ridiculous, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:17:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4764695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLii/pseuds/MissLii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Liam has a one night stand with Harry, who's a famous pop star. Two months later Liam finds out he's pregnant.</em><br/> </p><p>Or: Something's off with him. It's not just the painfully vivid memories of Harry that keep him awake; his whole body feels strange.</p><p>It's not the best time for him to get the flu or some other nasty bug. The stress of school being a bit too much on top of Harry suddenly being everywhere, on the telly and radio more often than ever, it feels like to Liam, must be what make him feel that way.</p><p>"You should send him a photo of your dick," Louis grins, looking proud of his idea. "He's bound to remember that."</p><p>On the telly, something blows up, but Liam's hardly even aware of what's on. Last he knew, they were watching the Great British Bake Off, which doesn't have any explosions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	by my side

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for the anon who prompted this over at my [Tumblr](http://pandadepanda.tumblr.com)  
> 

Louis disappears with a cute blonde lad, just one beer into their night out. Liam believes that they might be in the bathroom, getting off together, and he makes a mental note to tease Louis – fondly, of course – for ditching him so early in the evening. It's not like Liam's upset; he spends almost all his time with Louis, both at uni and in the little free time he has between school and work.

 

They’re only in London for one night to celebrate Liam’s twenty-first birthday, starting at the pub before going to a club later on. At least that was the plan. But Liam doesn’t think Louis will be back, the smirk he had on his lips as he pulled the guy after himself – Niall, Liam thinks his name was, but he’s not sure – had been quite telling.

 

Though, the pub is crowded with people, so he’s sure he’ll meet someone to talk to. Sooner or later.

 

Right now, he’s pretty content with trying to hit bull’s eye with the darts. He’s so very close, the buzz of alcohol in his blood not enough to throw him off his game.

 

Then someone makes a humming sound next to him, and he startles just as the dart leaves his hand. It hits the wall instead of the board, and he sighs before turning his body so he can see who’s next to him.

 

Liam’s glad he’s not holding onto any more darts; he’s sure he would have dropped them on his own feet in shock. Standing in front of him, grinning bigger and bigger as Liam just stares, is Harry Styles, Great Britain’s favourite pop star and all around one of the most sought after bachelors in the country. Both by men and women, since he’s openly bisexual. He’s so fit, which makes it hard for Liam to stop staring, even when he knows that he should.

 

Harry’s one of Liam’s favourite artists, has been since he came second in X Factor almost four years earlier. His voice makes Liam’s body hot, just thinking about it; it’s been the cause of many daydreams, starting with Harry singing for him, but always ending with Harry’s naked skin under his mouth.

 

Liam’s not sure what to say, his mouth opening and closing several times as he tries to make his brain work. Harry looks amused, and his eyes shine with delight as he laughs.

 

“Hi,” Liam says slowly, doing an awkward wave with one hand. He lets his hand drop, wishing more than anything that he had a beer or something, just to have _something_ to do with his hands. Instead, he puts them in his pockets, curling his fingers in the fabric of his jeans.

 

Mostly to stop himself from reaching out to touch Harry, pull at that one curl that’s escaped from his bun.

 

Harry smiles at him, a little bit softer, nodding to himself as if he’s decided on something. Liam’s not sure what, though.

 

“Hey,” he murmurs, causing Liam to both wanting to run away and hide in the bathroom, but also curl up close and listen to him talk for hours. “You looked a bit lonely, I thought you could use some company.”

 

Liam shrugs; Harry’s not wrong about him being on his own. He’s not sure what Harry wants, _or_ if he should admit to knowing who Harry is. But it feels stupid to ask his name, he’s been to two of his concerts and has seen him on so many magazine covers.

 

He should have had to have lived under a rock to avoid knowing who Harry is. He’s a terrible liar, so even trying to deny it would probably make him blush even harder.

 

“My mate’s in the loo,” he says, tilting his head towards where he thinks Louis is. “Not sure when he’ll be back.”

 

“You’ve lost your mate to someone who’s willing to touch his willy,” Harry laughs, wiggling his eyebrows. It makes Liam giggle, even when he’s shaking his head at the bad pun. “That’s a shame. For you, I mean.”

 

Liam sighs dramatically, pushing his bottom lip out into a pout. He tries to keep the laugh out of his voice as he says, “On my own birthday, and everything.”

 

“Well, birthday boy,” Harry says, putting an arm around his back and pulling him close. “You should let me buy you a beer, and also play a game with you. Maybe tell me your name, so I don’t have to call you birthday boy all night.”

 

The words ‘all night’ make Liam’s head spin for a moment. Without Harry holding onto him, leading him towards the bar, Liam’s pretty sure he would have just stopped in the middle of a step.

 

“It’s Liam, and it’s not _really_ my birthday today,” he confesses, not wanting to trick Harry into buying him drinks, just because he feels bad for him. “I mean, it’s been a few days.”

 

Harry ignores him when he tries to pay for his own drink, telling him it would be wrong of him not to. It’s almost Liam’s birthday, after all.

 

Liam manages to hit the dartboard, more often than not. It’s a wonder; he’s a tiny bit tipsy, but mostly it’s Harry’s so close to him, leaning against his side as he tells a long, rambling story about his last tour, that makes him feel a bit dizzy.

 

“Nice one,” Harry says, patting Liam’s cheek once when Liam’s dart hits bull’s eye. His fingers are cold from the beer against Liam’s skin, so hot with the flush high on his cheekbones. Harry must be able to tell how he’s blushing just being close to him.

 

Harry only grins and goes to collect the darts.

 

Harry’s resting his chin against Liam’s shoulder, his hand big and warm on Liam’s hip. The way he’s touching him, keeping a hand on him the whole time, it makes Liam confused. Harry can’t be interested in him, he’s just Liam.

 

Liam can’t help to wonder anyway.

 

“Let’s make it into a game,” Harry says, his voice close to Liam’s ear. He pats Liam’s stomach once, and then he simply walks off, making Liam feel cold and confused.

 

It doesn’t take long before Harry comes back with a tray of shots, so green that they almost look poisonous. They’re more of them than Liam can count to at first glance.

 

“When are we supposed to drink?” Liam wonders, taking the shot Harry offers him. It stings as he swallows it down, making him scrunch his face up in a grimace. “Like, what are the rules?”

 

“Well,” Harry says, dragging the word out. “Didn’t really think about that.” He grins sheepishly when Liam laughs, setting the empty glass on the tray Harry’s still holding.

 

“Whoever gets the lowest score with five darts gets to do a shot?” Liam wonders, not sure if it’s too often. The shot seemed rather strong, his mouth still burning with the taste of alcohol.

 

Harry seems to think it’s a good idea since he nods and sets the shots on a table close to them.

 

It turns out it’s rather hard to hit the right spot. When he says so to Harry, Harry smirks and wiggles his eyebrows, causing Liam to blush harder, his cheeks so hot he knows that Harry can see it even in the dim light. Luckily, they’re pretty evenly matched, both of them missing more and more every round.

 

When Harry’s very close to putting the dart into another customer instead of the dartboard, they’re asked to leave. Or at least put the darts away, the bartender carefully adds when Harry pouts at her.

 

“No,” Harry drawls, nuzzling against Liam’s shoulder as he shakes his head without lifting it. “We’re leaving anyway.” He touches Liam’s hip with a clumsy hand, dragging him a little bit closer as he gets a better hold of him, fingertips sliding up under his shirt.

 

Liam shivers as Harry’s breath tickles the side of his neck, Harry’s mouth pressing a kiss just behind his ear. “We are?”

 

Harry nods as he takes his hand, squeezing their fingers together. Liam’s heart speeds up, but he smiles shyly. Harry’s staring at his face, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. It looks like he’s about to kiss him, and Liam’s pretty sure they shouldn’t do it there in the pub, with so many people around them.

 

“Let’s go, then,” he says, nodding towards the door. Suddenly, he’s in a rush to get out of there. All he can think about is getting to feel Harry’s skin against his own.

 

“I really want to kiss you,” Harry blurts out, not moving at all when Liam tries to pull him along. “Have been since I first saw you.”

 

“Fuck,” Liam groans out, squeezing his eyes shut. He can’t give in, no matter how much he wants to let Harry kiss him until he can’t think. It can’t be a good idea, not with Harry being so well-known. Liam’s not sure he would be able to stop, and he’s pretty sure Harry wouldn’t want that kind of pictures out there. “Let’s go, please.”

 

This time, Harry follows him out, holding his hand as they squeeze past people.

 

The whole way back, in the black car with a driver Harry greeted by name – not that Liam can even begin to remember what it was – Harry’s hand slides higher up on the inside of his thigh. Slowly he works his way up, his long fingers trailing the inseam teasingly as he talks to the driver.

 

It makes Liam want to climb into his lap and snog Harry until he can’t form proper sentences.

 

Liam’s not even sure what part of London they’re in when the car comes to a stop. The building seems nice, but it’s dark out, so Liam’s not really sure. It’s not like he cares anyway, he just wants Harry to kiss him, like he promised he would.

 

As soon as they’re inside, the light not even on in the hall, Harry presses him back against the wall. His body is warm against Liam’s as he rubs his thumb over Liam’s bottom lip, tugging at it lightly when Liam lets out a small sigh.

 

“Let me take you to bed, yeah?” Harry murmurs, pressing his hips against Liam, somehow managing to push them even closer together. He strokes his fingers down Liam’s neck, waiting for him to nod before he starts working on getting the buttons on his shirt undone.

 

Liam feels like he’s about to come in his pants, his cock leaking so much can feel his cockhead sticky against the fabric. Harry’s barely touched him, only teased him with small touches, his hips rolling slowly against Liam’s, and he’s so desperate already.

 

He doesn’t want to come until Harry’s in him, taking him apart with his cock. Liam moans just thinking about it, fingers gripping Harry’s silky shirt harder as his cock jerks.

 

“You’ve a bed _right_?” Liam asks, stopping to take a shuddering breath as Harry’s fingers skim down his chest, brushing over his swollen, pink nipples. “Fancy pop star like you.”

 

Harry pinches his side, the sharp pain only making his skin flush even hotter with want; he makes an embarrassingly needy sound. It causes Harry to pause, blinking rapidly. Then he smirks, voice gravely as he says, “I could always suck you off right here.”

 

Liam nods mindlessly, fingers shaking as he drags Harry’s shirt up. He makes a frustrated noise when he doesn’t get it over his head, Harry’s too close to him for it to work.

 

Harry pulls away far enough to pull the shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor, just next to their feet. “Maybe fuck you right here against the wall.” His voice is low, almost just a whisper.

 

Liam wouldn’t mind; he’s happy to have Harry any way that he sees fit. But he’s not sure his legs would him up. He feels shaky and overwhelmed, like it’s almost a bit too much to take in. All he wants to do it to let Harry take care of him.

 

“Some other time,” Liam says, not sure he even believes his own words. Not even when Harry groans against his neck, the next kiss on his neck rougher, with teeth dragging against skin.

 

There will probably not be another time. Even at that moment, with Harry's hands on him, he can't imagine that it'll be anything than a one-time thing.

 

When Harry sinks to his knees, mouthing at Liam’s cock through his jeans, Liam can’t think of anything except how good Harry looks on his knees. How great his mouth feels on him, the lovely pressure against the head of his cock causing his hips to push away from the wall.

 

Harry laughs when he uses his hands to push him back again. Harry’s hands are so big and hot, fingertips digging in just enough to make him think that he might have marks there when he wakes up the next day.

 

“Need it,” he pleads, biting back a noise as Harry presses a kiss against his cock. “ _Please_.”

 

Harry’s eyes are dark, his hands a bit clumsy as he tries to get the zipper on Liam’s jeans open at the same time as he grins up at him. Then he’s dragging them down with a hard pull, almost toppling Liam over with the force of it, causing him to stumble and grab onto Harry’s head. Just to have something to steady himself on. His cock bobs free, the tip dark red, right in front of Harry’s hot gaze. He lets out a soft moan as Harry closes his hand around it, just holding it as he watches him closely.

 

“Ops,” Harry giggles, pressing a soft kiss on the shiny tip. “That was _not_ smooth.”

 

It’s hard for him to think of a good comeback when Harry’s lips wrap around his cock, the inside of his mouth almost feverish hot. He tries to get something to hold onto, fingers flexing against Harry’s head. He finds nothing, but then Harry pulls the headband out of his hair, curls falling over Liam’s fingers.

 

“Oh,” Liam breathes out, fingers twisting in Harry’s hair as he pushes closer, takes more of Liam’s cock into his mouth.

 

It’s _so_ good, his legs almost giving out as Harry’s tongue presses against his sensitive cockhead, licking away a drip of precome. “Wait, _wait_.”

 

Harry’s mouth is wet with saliva, plumper than before as he pulls off. It makes Liam think about letting Harry suck him off until he comes, see how wet he would feel around Liam then, but he wants everything.

 

“I want you to fuck me,” he says, his voice catching when Harry’s hand squeezes tighter around the base of his cock.

 

“Yeah?” Harry murmurs, eyes hot with want as he looks up at him.

 

Nodding eagerly, Liam gingerly lets his fingers untwine from Harry’s curls. He holds a hand out to Harry, arching an eyebrow when Harry doesn’t move from his spot on the floor.

 

 

“Right,” says Harry, shaking his head to himself.

 

He seems as wobbly as Liam feels as he gets to his feet, but his body is solid and warm as he presses forward to kiss Liam once more. Liam gets a bit lost in it, closing his eyes as he lets Harry lick into his mouth, moaning as he tastes himself of Harry’s tongue.

 

 

When Harry pulls away, he whines and tries to push forward. Harry’s lips and tongue make Liam want to kiss him for hours until his lips are sore and hot. Kiss him until he can’t taste himself or the alcohol, only Harry.

 

Harry doesn’t seem any less keen to stop kissing him. He stops every other step, pushing Liam against the nearest flat surface and fucking his tongue into Liam's mouth, switching between soft, teasing kisses and rough ones that make Liam’s cock leak precome between them.

 

When Harry pushes him backwards on the bed, Liam tries to drag him down, wanting to feel Harry's body on top of his. But Harry shakes his head and takes a step back, making Liam whine out a protest.

 

"Just gonna take these off," Harry mumbles, hopping around on one leg as he tries to drag the jeans off without falling over. He should look ridiculous, one leg out of the tight black jeans, but Liam can only focus on Harry’s skin; the pale insides of his thighs and the black leaves on his hips.

 

Liam nods, running a hand down his stomach, not stopping until he’s got a good grip on his own cock. It doesn’t stop the need in his body from almost being too much, his skin flushed a pretty pink all the way down his stomach. It’s still nice, and his hand squeezing just a little bit too hard, holds the telltale rush of his orgasm up his spine off.

 

He’s too close, not sure he’s going to last until he’s got Harry’s cock stretching his wide.

 

Liam wants so much. He wants to get his mouth on Harry, taste his skin, trace his tongue over the tattoos until Harry’s begging him to come.

 

The rush in his body, the need to have Harry in him is bigger. Just for a short moment, he lets himself think that maybe there will be a next time. That maybe he’ll get a chance to have everything he wants. It might be the buzz of the shots, making him give in to the fantasy that he’s more than just a one night stand to Harry.

 

“Come here,” he mumbles, hips twitching off the bed as he rubs his thumb over the sticky head. When Harry just stares at him, eyes almost fixated on where Liam’s wanking himself off slowly, Liam arches one eyebrow and puts two of his fingers between his own lips.

 

“Not fair,” Harry groans, shaking his head hard enough to make his curls bounce. “Your lips are not fair.”

 

Liam grins, letting his tongue run slowly around the digits. Letting them slide a little bit deeper, he sucks harder. The moan Harry lets out, it’s almost guttural, rough and long; it causes Liam to pause, shivering hard as he tries to breath around his fingers.

 

“You sure you want to do this?” Harry asks, climbing up on the bed. He doesn’t touch Liam, hands spread wide on his own thighs as he waits, giving Liam an out when he really doesn’t want one.

 

He’s so close Liam can feel the warmth of Harry’s skin, his knees bumping against his leg as he shifts, spreading his legs wider so Liam can see more of his cock.

 

“Don’t be dumb,” Liam grins, using his free hand to pull at Harry, making him fall right on top of him. Liam groans, pushing at Harry until his pointy elbows don’t dig in anymore. Then it’s just lovely, Harry’s cock lining up with his, moving with Harry as he shifts.

 

Harry’s heavy on top of him, his skin warm where Liam puts his hands on Harry’s hips, pulling at him so he starts rolling his hips in lazy pushes.

 

His head is hazy, but he blames the green, sour shots he had with Harry not even two hours ago less than the fact that he’s in the nicest bed he’s ever been in with Harry grinning down at him.

 

“I really want your cock in me,” Liam pleads, causing Harry stop and stare down at him. “Like, you’ve no idea.”

 

Harry laughs, pushing his face against Liam’s neck. He’s nips at his skin, soothing his tongue over the spot as he starts grinding his hips down again. “I think I do.” He sounds so rough, his voice catching as Liam moans, the friction against his cock sending shivers up his spine.

 

Trying to pull Harry harder against him, he wraps his legs around Harry’s back. It’s not the most effective way to get what he wants; he knows he must let go of Harry if Harry’s supposed to fuck him. It feels too good for him to to be rational about anything.

 

“Do it then,” Liam manages to get out, hands slipping on Harry’s skin as he pulls away, both of them starting to get shiny with sweat.

 

“Just need to get the lube.” Harry almost knees him as he climbs off him, but somehow he falls off of him instead, causing Liam to giggle as he lies back on the bed.

 

Nothing about it seems real; Harry’s so pretty, even more than he’s been on the telly or on the front page of the magazines. Not that Liam wants him because he’s famous; he wants him because of how Harry makes him feel right that moment.

 

It’s a bit nerve-wracking, splaying his legs wider when Harry climbs in between them. He feels exposed and open, but in a good way. Harry seems so into it, his cock big and hard, the tip deep red and tempting.

 

“Come on,” Liam whines, voice breaking as Harry’s fingers push against his taint, wet with lube and a bit cold. “Don’t tease.”

 

When Harry slips his finger a little bit lower, Liam’s legs tense before he relaxes into the bed, feet slipping on the sheets. His whole body feels warm as Harry starts pushing his finger into him, his cock lifting off of his stomach, the tip getting wetter and wetter with precome.

 

“You are going to feel so good,” Harry says, at the same time as Liam feels Harry’s knuckles against his skin. “Can’t wait to get in you.”

 

Nodding along to every word, Liam shifts up into Harry’s hand as he starts pulling out. But when Harry fucks into him again, a little bit harder and with more purpose, he forgets what he was about to answer.

 

It’s not like it matters anyway, Harry’s slowly fingering him open, one hand tracing up and down the inside of Liam’s thigh, pushing a little to open him up more. He’s going to fuck him, get in him as soon as he deems him ready. As Harry adds another finger, Liam nods to himself, feeling the sharp burn of his rim stretching wider. It’s not much, not yet; he knows that Harry’s cock is big, the head wide and bulbous. It’s going to be a lot to take, just the thought of it makes his hole tighten around Harry’s fingers.

 

He can’t wait to see how it feels, his stomach hot with anticipation.

 

“Please,” he mumbles, his body arching off the bed as Harry’s fingertips graze his prostate.

 

Harry only grins down at him, his bottom lip shiny with spit and cheeks a bright pink. The next time, he presses harder against that nub of nerves deep in him, letting out a pleased little hum as Liam groans throatily.

 

Harry’s cheeks are flushed, his hand on Liam’s thigh holding onto him harder. He keeps fucking his fingers in deep, curling them just the right way. Liam’s cock lays flat on his stomach, ignored as Liam fists his hands harder in the sheets, needing something to ground him as Harry wedges another finger into him.

 

“We need a condom, right?” Harry asks, voice rough with want.

 

Harry’s fingers push against his prostate, making him arch his back in a try to get closer to him. It’s hard for Liam to find words, to even think. But Harry’s right, they do need a condom. Liam’s a carrier, no matter how much he would like to ignore the voice in the back of his head that tells him it’s okay, that he should ignore all sense and let Harry fuck him bare – really let him feel it when Harry comes – he can’t. He knows that he shouldn’t anyway, they don’t know each other.

 

It’s not a good idea.

 

“Yeah,” he groans, the small word all he can say when Harry’s fingers shove into him one last time.

 

Liam feels empty, his hole clenching around nothing. Still, he tries to wait patiently as Harry gets condom on, his fingers slippery with lube. He must make some kind of noise because Harry laughs and shakes his head.

 

“Want to fuck you on your hands and knees,” Harry murmurs, patting his thigh softly to get his attention.

 

Not that he really needed to, all of Liam’s focus is on Harry, eyes sliding up and down his body, not sure where to look. All of him so pretty, strong and lean at the same time. And his cock, Liam’s mouth is getting wetter just looking at it. He has to swallow over and over, saliva welling up fast, just the thought of getting to trace his tongue along it so wonderful.

 

“Sound great,” Liam says, his limbs clumsy as he rolls over and pushes himself up on his hands and knees. He lets his knees slip a little wider apart, tilts his arse up as he hears Harry moan at the same time as he feels Harry’s fingers slide down his back, tracing the knobs of his spine.

 

Harry’s hand feels big as he grabs his hip, holding him steady as Harry’s cock snubs against his hole. At first, he slips a little, both of them giggling because of it. But then Liam can feel how he opens up around Harry’s cock. It’s a lot, Harry’s cock big as it pops into him, his rim pulsing around him.

 

It still feels so, so good.

 

Liam pushing himself back without thinking, only Harry’s hand on him stopping him from forcing Harry’s cock all the way in him at once. Instead, Harry works his cock into him, little by little. Pulling out, so only he head holds him open, sometimes letting it slip out completely, and then sliding a little bit deeper every time.

 

When Harry’s fully sheathed in him, with a firm grip on his hips, he says, “You’re doing so great. You look amazing like this.”

 

Harry’s praise makes him moan softly, dropping down on his elbows as Harry pulls out and fucks into him with a long, deep thrust. He lets out long groans, blushing when he realises how loud he is, his cheeks for sure a bright pink. Biting his lip so his teeth dig in, the sharp pain making him feel more centered, less like he’s about to melt into the bed, he tries to hold back.

 

Harry’s not holding anything back, he’s shameless as he moans. Every sound so dirty that Liam’s skin feels tighter, his cock dripping wetly from hearing it. It’s easy for Liam to stop caring then, he doesn’t even try to stop the next moan he makes as Harry’s cock pushes into him again.

 

“So bloody hot,” Harry murmurs, setting a fast pace as he works his cock into Liam over and over. “The noises you make,” he pauses as Liam rocks back harder, their skin slapping together wetly. “Unbelievable.”

 

“Oh fuck,” he blurts out, head lolling forward as Harry’s hand wraps around him. Harry’s thrusts rock him into his hand, his thumb sliding over the sensitive cockhead almost every time. Liam can feel the orgasm building, sparks of pleasure rushing through his veins. “So close.”

 

“Want you to come,” Harry tells him. The next shove of Harry’s cock into him almost makes Liam’s arms give out, his whole body tensing up as his cock spills wetly against his own stomach, over Harry’s hand.

 

Liam can feel himself flutter around Harry’s cock as he comes, his whole body tensing and relaxing in pulses. He’s shivering before he’s stopped coming, the roll on his rim as Harry drags his cock out of him feeling even more, everything so intense.

 

He lets out a small whine, a bit over sensitive; it’s still lovely, everything is just so much sharper. Harry stills for a moment and is about to pull out when Liam says, “No, don’t stop.”

 

It doesn’t take long for Harry to come, his nails digging in hard on Liam’s hips as he spills deep in him. So hard that Liam sure that he’ll have marks after him there, small pink half moons that will remind him of Harry. Liam can feel him pulsing, hot even through the condom. He feels boneless, almost unable to hold himself up as Harry rides out the last of his orgasm, pulling out with a content sigh afterwards.

 

They both flop down on the bed, limbs everywhere before they roll over on their backs. As they try to catch their breaths, Harry skims his fingers along the inside of Liam’s wrist, so softly that it’s just a ghost of a touch.

 

Weirdly enough, it doesn’t feel awkward, both of them grinning stupidly big at each other.

 

They fuck one more time before they fall asleep, Harry pushing into him slowly. It's lazier, Liam riding Harry at a slow pace, lifting himself up with trembling thighs.

 

It's not until he feels Harry's come in him, hot as it's starting to drip out of him, he realises that they forgot about the condom the second time. For a short moment, he panics, the feeling of come on the backside of his thighs making his head spin.

 

"Get down here," Harry says, voice slow and a bit slurred. Liam feels too dazed to do anything except lift himself off of Harry and lie down next to him.

 

Liam tries to keep a safe distance, not sure what he's supposed to do, if he should leave. But Harry smiles softly at him, so he decides not to leave the bed, get his stuff and call a cab.

 

Harry doesn't seem to realise that something's wrong, only hums softly as he moves closer to him.

 

Liam's too tired and comfortable as Harry cuddles close to his back, breath slow against his neck, to care as much as he should. It's probably nothing to worry about; it's just one time.

 

He makes a mental note to buy morning after pills as soon as he gets home, just to make sure. Feeling like he can breathe properly again, he closes his eyes. Harry's already asleep, and he knows he should think about leaving. Save himself from an awkward morning after, when Harry doesn't want him there anymore.

 

– – –

 

If Liam wasn’t so groggy, his head pounding painfully and his mouth dry, it would take him a few minutes to realise he’s not in his hotel bed. There are long limbs holding Liam in in a tight grip, warm puffs of air tickling the backside of Liam’s neck.

 

Someone’s wrapped around him.

 

As he opens his eyes, slowly to make sure that his head doesn’t spin too much, it becomes even more obvious that he’s not where he thought he was. The walls are the wrong colour, pale beige and with fancy looking art that Liam’s never noticed – never seen – before. Shuffling away from the warm, naked body behind him, he ignores the sleepy, mumbled protest. He’s still half asleep and is frantically trying to place the voice of the person he obviously went home with.

 

He _knows_ that voice.

 

It’s a near thing he falls off the bed when he sits up and sees who’s in bed with him. When he tries to remember, bits and pieces of the night before come back to him. His head's a mess, with thoughts of naked skin and pleasure that’s almost too much to even think about, as he sits there with the white sheets in his hands, fingers almost as pale because of hard he’s holding on to them.

 

Staring down at Harry’s face, with a small frown on his lips as he hugs his arms around his body, he doesn’t even need the memories to know what happened. He’s naked and he can feel his muscles protest as he shifts, thighs burning like he’s run a mile. His arse feels slightly sore, he’s so obviously been fucked.

 

If anything that Liam’s read in the papers is true, Harry has dated more than half the celebs in Great Britain. And some in the U.S, too. Not that Liam thinks it’s anything wrong with that, but he’s sure Harry doesn’t want him there in bed as he wakes up.

 

Liam’s just an ordinary lad, trying to pay his bills with the little money he earns. The bed is warm, cosy, with soft sheets and Harry’s skin tempting him to lie down again, but Liam still can’t make himself do it. It’s better that he leaves now, before Harry tells him to get out.

 

Just the thought of that conversation makes him frown and rub his hands over his face, hiding behind them for a second as he takes a shaky breath.

 

Liam’s not all that into the idea of having to sign some papers, promising to keep quiet and not talk to the press. Not that he _ever_ would, it’s just that he doesn’t like the idea of it. It seems so clinical and businesslike. It doesn't fit, not when he's more or less half in love with Harry already.

 

He tries to be as quiet as possible as he leaves, one sock on and one missing.

 

It's not until he's out of the house, he can start breathing properly again.

 

– – –

 

It takes him awhile to get back to the hotel. It's difficult when he doesn't even know quite where he is in the first place, but he only takes the wrong tube once. Considering his state, he's lucky he doesn't get lost completely.

 

Distracted still, sleepy and stressed out at the same time, it's not until he sits down on the neatly made up bed, he realises that Louis isn't alone in his bed.

 

He'd forgotten about Louis' bloke, even when it was the reason he met Harry in the first place. For a moment, he just sits there, wondering if he should leave. It’s not like he’s got anywhere else to go, but he could always take a walk or something.

 

Then Louis rolls over, flinging one arm over his eyes, most certainly trying to block out the light shining in through the window. Liam just sits there, waiting for the inevitably teasing for disappearing on him he’ll get when Louis wakes up for real.

 

It’s too late to leave now, not that it would matter anyway. He’s been gone all night, so it’s quite obvious that he’s been with someone.

 

It’s just who he’s been with that’s unexpected, maybe even shocking. Liam still got a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he’s spent one – very memorable, yet blurry night – with one of Great Britain’s most famous person.

 

He’s sure he’ll never live it down when he tells Louis about it, not that he’s going to do that right _now_. Maybe Louis won’t even notice something being up, with his new friend in bed with him and the hangover he must have. Louis can be a bit prickly in the mornings even when he’s not had a rough night, so Liam thinks he might not even care about more than getting some proper breakfast in his belly. Depending on how much he likes his bloke from the night before, either asking him to join or tell him to sod off.

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Louis grumbles, his face still halfway hidden underneath his arm.

 

Liam’s not said a word; not even moved his feet on the floor. “I’m pretty sure I’ve not uttered a word, mate.”

 

“You’re thinking too loudly,” Louis complains, frowning at Liam as he lets his arm drop to the side. It’s so obvious when he notices that he’s not alone in bed, his bloodshot eyes widening as he stops paying attention to Liam.

 

“Should I leave you alone?” Liam asks, not up to being the third wheel to Louis’ awkward morning after. He’s just managed to avoid one of his own, something he’s not sure how he feels about yet, if he’s happy about it or not. Not that he’s got any right to feel anything but bland about it, since it was all up to him.

 

If anyone had a right to be upset, it was Harry. Liam can’t imagine that he’s anything expect happy about it, though.

 

“Nah,” Louis shrugs lazily, managing to make it seem like the most natural thing even when he’s lying on his back. “I’ve missed you, haven’t I?”

 

Liam’s not fooled by Louis’ innocent tone, the smirk on his face makes Liam blush and wish he’d not made his way back to the hotel for a moment. Then he’d not have to have this talk with Louis until he’d figured it out by himself.

 

“I think you were the one who abandoned me,” Liam says, doing his best to look pitiful. It doesn’t seem to work, Louis only raises one eyebrow and tutts. It makes Liam feel the need to tell him _everything_.

 

 

Fuck it if Louis’ one night stand – or more, Liam doesn’t think Louis had worked that out himself yet – hears it all.

 

Liam’s saved by the blonde boy in bed with Louis waking up, groaning loudly as he stretches so much the sheet slips down so far Liam’s scared he’s about to see some dick he’s not interested in.

 

Still, he rather has that, than having to tell Louis quite yet who he spent the night with. He’s too tired to deal with the teasing he just knows that he’ll get. He hadn’t felt it earlier, the shock of everything and the adrenaline of making it out of Harry’s flat unnoticed, making him run high on energy.

 

It feels like he’s not slept for a week as he curls up on his own hotel bed. He frowns when it’s not as nice and soft as Harry’s had been.

 

– – –

 

As they get back from London, Louis keeps in close contact with his possible new boyfriend, whose name now Liam knows for sure is Niall. That the two of them aren’t dating officially, is mostly because of Louis not wanting to seem as besotted as he really is, not wanting to scare Niall away.

 

Liam finds it cute, and a good distraction from how hard it is for him to pretend that he doesn’t care about his own one night stand, that didn’t end up quite so long-lasting.

 

For some reason, Liam still hasn’t told Louis that he fucked Harry Styles, opting to shrug and wave Louis off as he asked what kind of dirty hipster Liam got off with, if he didn’t want to tell him.

 

It’s _not_ that Liam doesn’t want him to know, or that he doesn’t trust Louis not to tell. He knows that he can trust Louis with his life, with everything he’s got.

 

He just wants to stop thinking about it, and it’s easier to do if he doesn’t have to talk about it.

 

– – –

 

Almost three weeks after their night out in London, Liam’s almost managed to convince himself that his night with Harry was an alcohol induced fever dream. It feels less real when he’s back home, with homework and having to work after his classes to pay his rent.

 

Now when he’s not able to see the marks Harry left of his body anymore, it’s even harder to believe that it ever happened to someone like him. Those odd times he lets himself think about it.

 

Louis has an old car, a green Fiat that’s covered in scratches and filled with trash, old Mc Donald wrappers and a pair shoes that Liam’s pretty sure Louis not even knows is there.

 

Most of the time, Liam’s able to borrow it to drive himself instead of having Louis take him to his mum’s place. He enjoys his time with Louis, he always does, but he’s also fond of living until he twenty-five and Louis can be a bit reckless as he drives.

 

Though, this time Louis needs to pick his sisters up from their friend’s house, so Liam’s stuck in the passenger seat next to Louis.

 

“Oh,” Louis grins, bopping along to a very familiar tone of the radio. He makes a sharp turn to the left, wringing the noise up to a volume that has him shouting the last bit. “This is a good one, yeah?”

 

On the radio, Harry’s voice tells a tale of drunken nights and lost love. Liam’s sure he’s blushing harder than he’s done since that night.

 

“I slept with Harry,” he blurts out, unable to keep it in anymore. “When we were in London, I mean.”

 

“What?” Louis says, hitting the brakes hard. It’s a wonder he ever heard what Liam said, even more that he actually checked the mirrors first. As soon as the car has stopped, he seems not to care about that they’re in the middle of the road.

 

He even flips off the driver that honks at him and drives past him when Louis still doesn’t move the car, When Liam doesn’t say anything, he turns the volume down and waits.

 

Liam shrugs, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth as he tries to figure out how to explain it all. It’s pretty simple really, a one night stand with someone way out of his league, someone who’d probably forgotten about him.

 

“You slept with Harry bloody Styles,” Louis says slowly, still looking like he can’t quite believe it even as he says the words out loud. Liam can understand that, he’s got the same problem, and he’s the one who slept with Harry. “This feels like something I should have known about.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Liam stalls, shrugging once more. For a moment, he feels like doing a runner, just opening the door and get out of there. That would be so stupid, though. He _wants_ to tell Louis, tired of lying to his best friend. “Things happened, I’m sure he’s forgotten about it by now.”

 

“Nobody could ever forget about you,” Louis huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He glares as Liam as he tries to say that he’s pretty sure he’s right, as if he knows exactly what Liam’s thinking. “Not that he deserves you if he was a tosser and kicked you out. “

 

Liam feels overwhelmed with fondness, grateful that he’s got Louis as his best friend. Still, Louis is a bit off, so he needs to correct him. It feels important that he knows the right details, now that he knows about it. “It wasn’t him that left when I was sleeping,” he mumbles. “So I wouldn’t call _him_ a tosser.”

 

In any other situation, he would have found Louis speechless, his mouth open in shock, funny. It would have made him laugh so hard he’d been unable to talk.

 

“I’m sure he would have kicked me out anyway,” Liam rushes to say, pulling at the seat belt as he watches Louis frown harder. “It was better that I left before that. It would have been bloody awful.”

 

“It would have been his loss,” Louis says, starting the car up again. Liam’s sure he’s got plenty more to say, but being the amazing brother he is, he’s not forgotten about his sisters.

 

“He’s a bit different from us, isn’t he?” Liam asks, nodding towards the back of the car where the most of the mess are, one half eaten toast from the morning still in the middle of the seat. Louis rolls his eyes, looking like he’s about to reach out and pinch Liam. “No funny business in the car. It’s a rule, remember?”

 

“That’s a dumb rule,” Louis groans, rolling his eyes as he places both his hands on the steering wheel.

 

“It’s a _good_ rule,” Liam says, grateful that on the radio, another song has started up. And that Louis seems to be – _temporarily_ – distracted enough not to ask any more questions about Harry.

 

Liam’s sure he’ll get asked plenty later, though. Louis will probably ask lots of questions that’ll make him blush, but still will make him want to hug Louis in gratitude for being his friend.

 

– – –

 

"You know," Louis says, pressing himself into the small spot that's available besides Niall on the sofa. He could have taken place on the other side of him, but then he wouldn't have been halfway into Niall's lap. "You should get in touch with him."

 

Louis doesn't even have to say who he means, _him_ is enough.

 

Out of accident, Louis had let it slip to Niall, just a few days after Liam told him. He was honestly upset afterwards, offering Liam to punish him in the dumbest and most awful ways.

 

"Yeah," Niall agrees, grinning big and sunny as Louis wraps an arm around his shoulders. "You could DM him on Twitter, or something."

 

Niall's quickly becoming a great mate of his, but he's bound to find everything Louis says the best idea ever. Liam's not sure it is this time. He's not been able to get the feeling of Harry's hands on his skin out of his head, but there's no reason for him to think that Harry's been as distracted and weird feeling as he's been.

 

Something's off with him. It's not just the painfully vivid memories of Harry that keep him awake; his whole body feels strange.

 

It's not the best time for him to get the flu or some other nasty bug. The stress of school being a bit too much on top of Harry suddenly being everywhere, on the telly and radio more often than ever, it feels like to Liam, must be what make him feel that way.

 

"You should send him a photo of your dick," Louis grins, looking proud of his idea. "He's bound to remember that."

 

On the telly, something blows up, but Liam's hardly even aware of what's on. Last he knew, they were watching the Great British Bake Off, which doesn't have any explosions.

 

"I think he's dating someone else anyway," Liam says, his cheeks heating up as a realises that Louis now very soon will figure out that he's spent time on gossip sites. It’s like it’s some sort punishment for himself, forcing him to look at how easily Harry moved on when he hasn’t.

 

Louis leans forward, twisting himself around Niall so he can give Liam his best smirk. "You've kept track of your pop star, then?”

 

Niall huffs out a loud groan as Louis pushes his elbow into Niall’s stomach. Louis gives him a smile but doesn’t move, still waiting for Liam's reply, both of them locked in some sort of battle of who can hold out the longest, who will break and give up first.

 

After a while, Liam sighs and lets his shoulders slump forward as he nods. " Yeah," he mumbles, ashamed that he can't stop thinking about Harry, that he's been staring at his favorite photo of him almost every night. "Not that it'll do any good."

 

"What did you learn from your research?" Niall asks, his voice strained because of lack of air. He gives Louis a look, tilting his head towards his own stomach as he waits for Louis to catch on, but when nothing happens, he simply pushes Louis back on the sofa.

 

"Hey," Louis grumbles, quick to curl up close to Niall's side again. "Be careful with my goods, you like them, remember."

 

"I think we were talking about Liam's dick, not yours, babe," Niall laughs, wiggling his eyebrows at Liam.

 

"Please leave my dick out of this," Liam says, shaking his head when Niall opens his mouth to say something. "I mean, I'm pretty sure Harry's dating Zayn, you know the bloke who was on X Factor the same season?"

 

"I'm pretty sure he's dating the bloody Queen, in that case. The bloody rags have no clue, do they?" Louis' voice muffled by Niall's soft green sweater. " They didn't write a thing about you, and you had some proper famous dick in you."

 

Liam snorts out a laughter, the tension that's been making him sit stiffly on the sofa leaving his body in a rush. Not because he still doesn't believe that Harry's proper dating R&B star Zayn Malik, a much better fit for him. He would not say _that_ if Louis asked, he knows better.

 

No, Louis being himself, supporting and crude at once, makes him feel like it maybe doesn't matter. Suddenly it feels like it's okay that he spends some time dreaming about what could have been, but then he’ll move on, just like he’s sure Harry’s long done.

 

"You should think about it," Louis says, when Liam's made himself comfortable on his shabby sofa – a sofa he never could see Harry on, which is part of his problem with trying to get in touch with him. They live such different lives.

 

Liam's got his feet in Niall's lap, his head on a pillow that's a present from his mum when moving out. If he'd been less sleepy and content, he'd poked Louis with his toes to make him shut up about Harry. Liam's finally managed to convince himself that he'll give up on that thought soon.

 

Instead, he just hums and watches the car chase on the telly.

 

– – –

 

Liam’s felt off the whole morning, but it’s not the first day he’s been ill or had a headache that’s made his head pound wildly. All of his body has been acting weird, his limbs hurting like he’s been exercising when he’s really too tired to do anything except go to school and work.

 

He’s been thinking about asking his mum, she’s a nurse after all, but it’s never been the right time. He never wants her to worry.

 

“Not again,” Liam mumbles, feeling his stomach roll with nausea. The breakfast of the table, a freshly baked scones and a mug of tea, doesn’t feel tempting at all.

 

Niall looks worried, patting Liam comfortingly on the shoulder. “You alright there, mate?”

 

Liam nods, holding a hand over his stomach as he tries to will his body to stop. “Think I’ve caught the flu.” It doesn’t quite feel like the flu; he’s not feverish, his skin is a bit grayish at times – mostly when he’s been sick – but he doesn’t have a better explanation. “I’ve been sick a lot, mostly in the mornings, though. It’s bloody strange.”

 

“Might be a bun in the oven,” Niall jokes, his voice light and teasing. “Not that you look like you’ve put on weight, mind you.”

 

Liam freezes, mouth halfway open in a protest that he’s not pregnant, that he couldn’t be. He can’t believe how dumb he was, first to let Harry come in him, and then forget about the morning after pill.

 

“Oh _no_ , Niall,” Liam mumbles, both of his hands automatically feeling the shape of his stomach, just to see if he’s got a bump. He might have been putting on some weight, but he’s blamed that on eating badly and not running as much as he used to.

 

Now he wonders if it is because he’s got something growing in him.

 

He knows he’s not able to feel anything new. He would not able to tell if he’s got a baby in his stomach – not a baby yet, Liam’s brain corrects himself hysterically. A fetus, something that’ll grow in him until he’s big as a house. So big nobody could mistake him for anything but pregnant.

 

“You’re not?” Niall asks, sounding exactly as shocked as Liam feels. He’s not even able to get the last part of the sentence out, his eyes wide as he stares at Liam’s belly.

 

“I don’t know,” Liam mumbles, thinking back to what his sisters told him about their pregnancies, how it'd been for them. At lot of things make sense, suddenly. The morning sickness should’ve been a clear sign, he now realises, feeling an urge to hit his head against the table. “ _Maybe_.”

 

“Is it,” Niall trails off, looking around himself just to see if someone, for some reason, is listening to them. “Is it Harry, you think?”

 

It’s not like anyone would ever be able to guess that the Harry Niall’s almost whispering about, is world famous singer Harry Styles. Liam feels a sudden urge to laugh, everything a bit too much to deal with.

 

But Liam doesn’t even know if he’s pregnant, so he just shrugs. It’s mind-blowing and overwhelming to even think about being pregnant. That the fact that he doesn’t even know the – _possible_ – other father, he doesn’t even know how to feel about that.

 

“Maybe we should buy some of those tests to make sure,” Niall suggests gently, rubbing a hand up and down his arm slowly. “Just to see that you’re not worrying about nothing.”

 

“Yeah,” Liam agrees, giving the scone on his plate a glance. He’s not even sure he’s hungry, but suddenly he can’t help thinking that he might need to eat anyway, if he’s eating for two.

 

In the end, he leaves both the tea and the scone, following Niall out of the coffee shop. He feels numb, all he can think about is putting on foot in front of the other. Somehow they end up at the drugstore, even without Liam thinking once about where they were going.

 

It’s a good thing he’s got Niall taking care of him, seemingly much less unbothered than Liam is.

 

“You ready?” Niall asks, nodding towards the door. They’ve been standing there for awhile, Liam’s breathing coming out in short puffs, his heart beating so hard he can feel the thumps in his fingertips.

 

Liam nods, swallowing hard. “Think so.” His heart's still beating like it’s about to pop out of his chest and his hand is sweaty and warm in Niall’s grip. He needs to know, though. Maybe it’s just a false alarm. Maybe he’s _not_ two months pregnant.

 

Niall holds his hand the whole time as he leads him through the aisles, joking just to make him laugh.

 

Liam’s not sure what he’d have done without Niall, he’d probably had been crying into his cold tea. Or more likely, not realised a thing until he’d not been able to get his jeans on anymore.

 

– – –

 

Liam’s still in shock when he hears the door slam shut, his mind repeating the word pregnant over and over. He’s got his arms around his knees; his face buried against them as he tries to calm down. It’s not the end of the world. He’s got options; he’s not that far gone yet.

 

Still it feels huge.

 

Niall stops telling him that everything’s going to be alright, that they’re going to help him figure it out and shouts to Louis that they’re in the bathroom. That he should come there, too.

 

He’s way too loud, considering how small the flat Liam shares with Louis is.

 

“Hey,” Louis greets as he stops in the door to the bathroom. “Why are we sitting around on the floor in the bathroom today?” He looks worried even when his tone is light, joking.

 

“You should come here and hug Liam,” Niall murmurs, rubbing a hand up and down Liam’s back. “Think your boy needs it right now.”

 

“What the fuck,” Louis blurts out, eyes widening as he stops in the middle of a step. “Why are there five pregnancy test on the counter?”

 

Liam lifts his head, smiling wryly as he says, “might be because I’m pregnant.”

 

“No.” Louis looks like he believes that it’s all a prank, as if someone’s about to jump out from behind a corner and tell him he’s on camera. When Liam just shrugs, he drops down on the floor so fast it must hurt as his knees hit the floor.

 

It feels better, with Louis and Niall wrapped around him like a comforting, warm blanket. It’s still scary, just thinking about having to make a decision about keeping the baby or not – Liam’s already made his mind up about that, he’s pretty certain.

 

He’s going to be a dad, raise a kid on his own before he’s even done with Uni. His mum’s going to cry so hard when he tells her; it’s hard for him to even think about how upset she’ll be.

 

Hopefully, she’ll be happy when she realises that she’ll get a grandkid out of Liam’s mistake, the awfully stupid choice he made with a famous boy he’s just met once.

 

A boy he’s pretty certain never will know about that he’s got a baby, not unless Liam figures out a good way to tell him.

 

– – –

 

“We need to think,” Liam says, frowning at the notepad he’s got in his lap. They’re supposed to come up with ideas of how to tell Harry. So far they’ve got nothing.

 

It’s been two days since he found out; he’s spent a lot of that time in front of the mirror, trying to figure out if he’s started to show. It’s not much, but he’s pretty sure that there’s a tiny bump, safely hidden underneath his t-shirt.

 

He really needs to tell his mum, but he’s not sure when it’s a good time, or what words to use.

 

“I still think that it’s a good idea to send him a DM,” Louis says, leaning back against Niall’s chest. They look so cozy together on the sofa, snuggling even closer when Niall whispers something in Louis’ ear that makes him smile fondly. “You could skip out on the dick pic, I suppose.”

 

“I’m sure he gets tons of fans telling him stuff like that,” Liam mumbles, tapping the pen against the notepad.

 

“You should tell him in person,” Niall suggests, nodding to himself. “Isn’t he supposed to be back in London, in not too long.”

 

Louis twists around so he can give Niall an incredulous stare, pinching his side once before settling back down with a content sigh. “How do you even know?”

 

Niall shrugs, the movement small because of Louis being mostly in his lap. “Research.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I’ve got a chance of meeting him.” Liam starts to feel more and more resigned. “Like, what would I even do?” He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Wear a t-shirt that spells out that I’m pregnant with his baby.”

 

“Oh,” Louis says, the smile on his lips widening.

 

“That was not a suggestion, Lou,” Liam grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“Maybe you could get ahold of some tickets to his show,” Louis says, leaning back so he can pull out the phone in his front pocket. “And have a sign about you wanting to see him, afterwards.”

 

“We have to make sure that we’re in the front,” Niall says, grinning at Liam over Louis’ shoulder. “Just to make sure that he can see who you are.”

 

“If he even remembers me,” Liam points out. He’s not sure it’s a good idea, but he’s out of options, so it seems like he’s about to agree. He’s not going to wear the t-shirt, or have a sign with the same message, though.

 

Louis huffs, his attention more on the phone than Liam. “He’s going to remember you,” he says, sounding sure. “You’re his baby daddy, he better remember you, or I’ll hit him with the sign.”

 

“If you get close enough,” Niall says, patting Louis’ thigh as if he’s trying to tell him that it’s okay even if he doesn’t manage to assault Harry for not remembering Liam.

 

– – –

 

Harry’s amazing on stage, mind-blowingly good and so very sexy; it’s almost enough to distract Liam from how nervous he is.

 

He’s almost twelve weeks along, and the morning sickness has started to calm down, much to his happiness. As he sits there, slightly hunched to protect his small tummy from people – Harry mostly – noticing, he’s still feels like he’s about to be ill. Just knowing what he’s there to do, makes it feel like his stomach is filled with butterflies. He still can’t stop himself from smiling as Harry struts over the stage, demanding the attention of everyone in the audience. It’s hard for him to know if he’s happy to see Harry throw his hair back dramatically as he belts out a high note, or if it’s just the fantasy of everything working out that has him elated.

 

Louis managed to get them great seats, right in front of the stage; Liam’s got no clue how he did it, or how much the tickets cost him since Louis refuses to tell him.

 

Sometimes Liam thinks that Louis blames himself for leaving Liam alone that night, even when Liam’s not upset about being pregnant anymore. His family knows, and even when he was right about his mum crying all over him, he was also right about her being happy, already knitting tiny little sweaters for the baby that’s growing inside of Liam. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret for much longer, not when his stomach is growing, soon so big he’ll not be able to hide it underneath sweaters and hoodies.

 

It’s easy to tell when Harry notices him; he looks at Liam once, long and searching, and then once more as he passes him again. The sign is still next to his feet, so it’s not even it that catches Harry’s attention.

 

“Go on then,” Louis says, leaning in close so Liam can hear him. “Get it up.”

 

The sign simply says ‘ _we need to talk, pls_ ’, much to Louis’ disappointment. He’d hoped for something that would get more of a reaction out of Harry, but when Liam had insisted that he didn’t want to scare Harry with it, or make him think that he was a stalker, Louis had given in, but not without protesting. The lettering is in a bright, glittery pink colour – but that’s only because Louis’ little sisters helped them.

 

Liam hesitates before he holds up the sign, cheeks flaring with a hot blush as Harry stops right in front of him, feet firmly planted wide apart on the floor. Liam’s unable to look up from the glittery boots Harry’s wearing, so he’s got no idea how Harry reacts.

 

“Think it might have bloody worked,” Louis shouts, grinning brightly at Liam as he bops his head along to the music.

 

A few songs before the end of the show, a big burly security guard comes over to talk to them. At first, Liam’s sure that they’re going to get thrown out – for what, he’s not quite sure – but then the man asks them to stick around afterwards, tells them that they’re supposed to talk to Harry.

 

Liam feels more nauseous than he’s ever felt, including every morning between week seven and ten.

 

“It’s going to be okay, babe,” Louis says, squeezing his thigh once before he takes the sign from Liam’s convulsive grip and puts it on the floor.

 

Liam’s not sure he’s feeling as confident as Louis, but his only goal with their trip to London was to tell Harry that he’s going to be a dad. That seems like it’s about to happen, so he should be pleased.

 

He knows that he can’t expect more. He still does. It’s so selfish; he wants Harry to be a part of his kid’s life. Maybe his too.

 

– – –

 

Liam’s literally vibrating where he sits on the sofa, waiting for Harry to get there. Louis is right there with him, having given the security guard a glare and simply ignored the man when he told him that it was Liam who Harry wanted to talk to. Not him.

 

The noise of the door opening has him startling so badly he nearly falls off the sofa. Louis laughs, shuffling a little bit closer so he can put his arm around Liam’s shoulders, wrapping him up as if he’s trying to protect him from everything horrible in the world.

 

It’s times like that, Liam remembers why he loves Louis so much. Even when it makes things slightly award with Harry, both of them staring at each other as Louis cuddles Liam violently.

 

“Hi,” Harry says slowly, pushing a loose curl away from his face. He’s not wearing a shirt, and Liam’s not sure where to look, at the glistening skin low on his stomach, still covered in a slight sheen of sweat. Or his lips, pink and so, _so_ lovely.

 

When Louis clears his throat, Liam realises that he’s not answered. “Oh,” he mumbles shyly, feeling like he’s forgotten all about what he planned to say. “Hi?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but he can hear how unsure he sounds.

 

“Not that I’m not glad to see you,” Harry says as he scratches his stomach absentmindedly, making Liam’s eyes slip to where he was telling himself he shouldn’t look. “I just didn’t expect to see you here. Or that you wanted to talk to me?”

 

“Hah,” Louis says, shaking Liam softly to get his attention. “I fucking told you so.”

 

“I’m pregnant,” Liam blurts out, the practised speech he even had written down back home gone from his head.

 

Harry’s eyes widen as he looks between Louis and Liam; he looks confused and maybe a bit disappointed. Harry’s smile seems a little less bright, suddenly. “Well,” he says, making a lazy hand gesture that could be some sort of thumbs up. “Congrats to the both of you.”

 

“What?” Liam asks, feeling like he’s been hit hard in the head with something. Nothing Harry said makes any sense to him, that’s not the way a person usually reacts reacts to finding out that he’s made someone pregnant.

 

“Bloody hell,” Louis groans, the lazy pattern he was tracing on Liam’s shoulder coming to a stop. “Are you for real?” He arches an eyebrow, tilting his head like he’s trying to figure Harry out. “Have you forgotten about the fact that it was you that fucked our boy here stupid?”

 

“Louis,” Liam scolds, feeling too fond to actually care if Louis manages to get them kicked out. No matter of the outcome, at least he’s told Harry now. “Be nice.”

 

“What?” Harry asks, looking a bit faint. “You’re pregnant because of me? Isn’t that a bit weird, with your boyfriend being here? I mean, doesn’t he mind about the two of us? Is that why you left?”

 

Harry’s rambling, half of the things he says not making sense to Liam, but one word makes him shakes his head rapidly. “No, no,” he says, talking over Harry. “Louis is not my boyfriend.”

 

“Thank fuck for that,” Louis mutters, pinching Liam’s thigh. “I think my boyfriend back home would be very upset about not knowing.”

 

“This is all very confusing,” Harry says slowly, making Liam let out a slightly hysterical giggle.

 

It’s a mess, all of it. He’d this great plan about how he was supposed to tell Harry, but now Harry thinks he’s dating someone else and doesn’t quite seem to have realised that he’ll be a dad in about six months.

 

“Yeah,” Liam agrees anyway; some days it doesn’t make sense to him either, and he’s had more than a month to get used to it. “It’s a bit weird; it’s not like I planned to seduce you and get your sperm just to have a baby with you.”

 

“Your very potent sperm,” Louis cuts in, wiggling his eyebrows when Liam turns to make a face at him.

 

“I’m so, so sorry,” Liam says, about to get up from the sofa. Then he remembers that he’s not supposed to touch Harry, that it’s not what he’s there for. It’s better he stays where he is. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it _did_.”

 

“It’s okay,” Harry says, pushing his hands into the pockets of his skintight black jeans. “It’s not your fault. Not more than its mine.”

 

“I don’t expect anything, you know,” Liam says, needing to make Harry understand that he’s not there for Harry’s money. His kid will have a great home with him and Louis, no matter if they’ll have to live off of noodles themselves to make it happen.

 

Harry frowns, his forehead wrinkling as he walks over and sits down next to Liam. A little bit too close, their thighs almost touching. “You don’t want me to be a part of my baby’s life,” he mumbles, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. He looks so sad; it makes Liam’s stomach hurt.

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Liam explains, detangling himself from Louis’ limbs so he can turn towards Harry. “I don’t want you to feel like you _have_ to do anything.”

 

“I want to, though,” Harry says, taking Liam’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “You’re having my baby.” His voice catches on the word _baby_ ; he looks shocked still, but so very happy, the frown replaced by a brilliant smile that makes Liam’s stomach hurt for a completely different reason.

 

One that’s way worse. Even more so now that Harry seems to have decided that they should keep in contact. Liam has to remind himself it’s just because of the baby..

 

“You should move in with me,” Harry says, nodding to himself.

 

Liam cranes his neck around just to see if Louis heard the same thing as he did; it seems like he did, because Louis is gaping at Harry, looking like he’s about to fall off the sofa in shock.

 

“What?” Liam wonders in a confused voice. “Did you just ask me to move in with you. As in, live in your flat with you?”

 

Harry nods. “Yeah, that’d give us a chance to get to know each other before the baby comes.” He shrugs, like he makes total sense to ask someone you’ve met once – twice now – to move in with you.

 

“It’s six months until then,” Liam says, feeling dazed. He’s a lot less worried about Harry telling him to get lost. Now he’s mostly confused.

 

“Plenty of time,” Harry grins, letting go of Liam’s hand only to put it on his thigh instead. His eye slip from Liam’s face, lower and lower until he’s staring at Liam’s small tummy, pressed together by how he sits with his shoulders pushed forward. “Oh, you can actually see it.”

 

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Louis says, patting Liam on the back once. He gives him a look that Liam thinks should mean something to him – he’d been able to tell what, if he’d not been so focused on that Harry was touching him and looking at him.

 

“Just us then,” Liam mumbles, glancing shyly at Harry. He feels like he’s on some sort of awkward first date, not like he’s already pregnant, and about to move in with his baby’s father.

 

Not that he’d even decided if it’s a good idea. He should say no, keep in touch with Harry without moving in with him. It takes him by surprise when he says, “Sure, let’s do it.”

 

“It?” Harry wonders, voice catching in the back of his throat. It’s such a small word, but Harry manages to make it sound dirty, rough.

 

Liam blushes, pretty sure that Harry thought that he asked for another fuck. “No,” he rushes to say, shaking his head. It’s not a good idea to want Harry so much, he still can’t stop the way he reacts to just being near Harry. “I meant that I should move in with you, to make sure that we’re on the same page when the baby comes.”

 

“Great,” Harry says, looking like he’s tempted to reach out and touch Liam’s stomach. Liam can understand the urge; he still needs to do it several times a day, just to make sure that the swell is still there.

 

Liam smiles, but he’s sure it comes out wobbly. It doesn’t get any better when Harry grins so big his cheeks dimple.

 

Right then, he’s pretty sure he’s made things a hundred times worse for himself, agreeing to move in with Harry. He’s too happy to care, though.

 

His mum is going to be so shocked, not only has he just told her she’s going to be a grandmother. He’s going to tell her that he’s moving to London to live with a boy she’s never met but is bound to have heard of.

 

– – –

 

Harry’s flat looks nothing like he remembers it. Though, this time it’s light out and he’s not drunk. He’s also not distracted by Harry’s naked skin, or the next morning, trying to sneak out unnoticed.

 

They still haven’t talked about that, but Liam figures that they maybe don’t have to. The only reason he’s in Harry’s home – now his home, too – is because they’re going to be parents together.

 

It’s not until Liam stands in the middle of the big living room, staring at a fancy looking purple sofa that he wonders where he’s supposed to sleep. There might be a guest room somewhere in the flat. Harry’s not given him a tour yet, seems as confused about what to do as Liam is.

 

“Right,” Harry says, scratching his neck awkwardly.

 

Liam smiles, waiting for Harry to say something else. Harry’s been so quiet and careful around him, watching him closely but keeping a safe distance. It’s not weird, Liam’s not supposed to be there, in Harry’s home, watching Harry as he bumps his foot against the leg of the table and shrugs.

 

“The tour?” Liam asks, raising an eyebrow at Harry.

 

“Right,” Harry repeats, rolling his shoulders back as he gives Liam a blinding grin. “I didn’t think about that.” He walks down the hall, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Liam follows. “You’ve been here before.”

 

“I was a bit drunk,” Liam says, just managing to keep, ‘ _the only thing I cared about was your bed_ ’, in. He’s not sure if they’re talking about that part, even if it’s pretty obvious, considering the reason he’s there.

 

“Well,” Harry drawls, laughing like Liam’s said the funniest thing. “Let’s take a non-drunk tour, then.”

 

Every room is wonderful, most of them bigger than the size of flat Liam shared with Louis. There _is_ a fully decorated guest room, but the bed isn’t even made up, so Liam’s not sure if he’s supposed to sleep there. It doesn’t seem like it, since Harry closes the door after then, ushering Liam to the next room.

 

Liam almost trips over his own feet as Harry puts a hand on his lower back, the small touch enough to make him think about the last time he was there.

 

How easy it was to kiss Harry then.

 

Hours later, he’s alone in the guest room. He can’t fall asleep, tossing and turning in bed. He can hear Harry in another room, humming something that’s slightly familiar. It might be a lullaby he’s heard when he’s babysat his sister's’ kids.

 

It’s nice to hear Harry’s voice, soft and soothing, but it still makes him feel on the edge. It’s not like he’s forgotten why he’s there, in a bed with more plush and nice pillows than one person ever could need, but thinking about Harry singing their kid to sleep, it’s not something he’s thought of before.

 

Suddenly it all feels so much more real, the two of them doing it together.

 

The long day, and the fact he’d barely slept the night before because of nerves and worry about doing the wrong thing for himself and his baby, make him fall asleep not long after.

 

– – –

 

Living with Harry is a bit different than living with Louis. Liam’s never felt the urge to kiss Louis good morning when he woke up and found Louis in the kitchen, puttering around while the tea’s getting ready.

 

It’s both a blessing and a curse, that Harry seems to be half-naked most of the time he’s at home. It’s hard since he’s at home most of the time Liam’s there. Only out of the flat for an hour or two at a time, always rushing back from his meetings, always looking surprised that Liam’s still there.

 

It’s not like Liam can’t be on his own; he’s grateful that Harry’s there to keep him company, though. He’s quit his job, but he’s still studying on distance; the last part of his course needs to be done before the baby comes.

 

The worst part of living with Harry isn’t the way he comes back sweaty and flushed after his runs. No, it’s the horrible things he tries to get Liam to eat.

 

“But,” Liam whines, pouting with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t want to eat that… green thingy.”

 

“It’s good for you,” Harry says, pouting as hard, if not harder than Liam.

 

If the green smoothie, with kale, didn’t look so disgusting, he would have taken a sip. Now he just frowns at Harry and shakes his head.

 

“It’s good for the baby,” Harry tries, looking like he’s about to start ranting about all the pros to kale. Liam’s heard them before the first time Harry tried giving him one.

 

“I still want chips,” he says. “My body needs chips. Give me chips, please.” He puts a hand over his stomach and wonders if he’s starting to put on some weight, if he’s really starting to show. “I’m eating for two after all.”

 

He’s not surprised when Harry sighs and puts the smoothie on the counter, moving to the freezer so he can take out the chips he’s bought solely for Liam.

 

“I still think you should try it.” Harry’s smiling as he takes a sip of the drink he made for Liam, probably knowing that it was him that’d end up drinking it.

 

Liam ignores the comment, shuffling a little bit closer to Harry. “Thank you,” he says, smiling softly at Harry. If his stomach flutters when Harry smiles back, he blames it on the baby.

 

“Isn’t it time for your first ultrasound soon?” Harry asks, rifling around in the cupboard they keep the plates.

 

“Yeah,” Liam agrees, distracted by the small strip of skin where Harry’s shirt rides up. “I’ve a planned appointment back home.” He tries to remember the date and time, sure it’s dotted down on the fridge back home in his old flat. “It’s next week, since that would be week eighteen.”

 

Harry nods. “That would be a good time for me to meet your mum, I guess.” He looks nervous, the smile he offers Liam a little bit shaky.

 

“Might be a good idea yeah.” Liam’s sure his mum will love Harry, but he still feels strange thinking about Harry in his childhood home. It’s no use dragging it out, his mum has been asking about it, more than once.

 

Liam’s given her bad excuses, ones that made her laugh at him, calling him her silly boy.

 

Harry grins, touching Liam’s hip gently as he walks past him to the table. “Maybe we should look into getting you a midwife here?”

 

“If you don’t mind,” Liam says, trying to keep his voice light. Harry’s said nothing about not wanting him there, but Liam still worries.

 

Harry stops and stares at him, the timer that’s beeping on his phone ignored. “Why would I mind?”

 

Liam shrugs. “It’s not like you chose to have me here, did you?” It’s meant as a joke, but his voice comes out questioning. Small.

 

“I think I did do just that,” Harry murmurs, smiling cheekily. He bumps his hip against Liam’s as he walks past him once again, wiggling his eyebrows to make him laugh. “You were so cute and alone in that pub, a bit like a lost kitten.” He frowns as he realises it’s a bad comparison, shrugging as he continues with, “couldn’t help myself, could I?”

 

Liam’s cheeks are still flushed when he sits down to eat his chips.

 

Right then, that moment with Harry warm by his side, it felt like Harry was flirting with him like he did at the pub. It felt good, he always wants as much as Harry’s willing to offer him. But things are so complicated even without adding how much he wants Harry into the mix, so Liam maybe should be glad that he’s pretty sure Harry’s only joking anyway.

 

– – –

 

The most of the ride home, curled up in the passenger seat of Harry’s black Range Rover, Liam spends making excuses for what his mum is going to ask Harry.

 

Harry just laughs and waves him off, when he once more tells Harry that his mum probably wants them to marry, or something.

 

“Think my mum wants that, too,” he says, rolling his eyes fondly.

 

“Mums,” Liam laughs, still a bit nervous about all the things his mum might ask Harry. She knows they’re not in a relationship, never was really, but she’s got this idea that it might happen.

 

Even if Liam tries telling her that ‘ _no, that will never happen_.’

 

When they’re there, Harry’s so charming. It doesn’t take long for his mum to fall in love with his bad jokes, the tears in her eyes most likely from happiness.

 

“You sure you don’t want help with the tea?” Harry calls after his mum when she leaves the two of them on the sofa.

 

“You don’t have to be so nice to her,” Liam whispers, not meaning it all that much. His mum deserves the best. “Soon she’s going to ask, you know. About the baby.” He’s seen the way his mum’s watched them, watched the distance between them on the sofa with a completive tilt to her head.

 

“No worries, love,” she calls back.

 

When she comes back, she seems pleased that Harry’s moved a little bit closer to Liam, ignoring Liam’s small protest about his mum noticing.

 

“Maybe we should talk.” She offers Liam a calming smile as he sits up a little bit straighter, shaking his head. “You’re here for a reason, aren’t you.”

 

“Yeah,” Harry grins, patting Liam’s thigh once. “I’m not saying that we’ll get married tomorrow, but who knows.” He winks at Karen like they’re in on a secret, putting his finger in front of his lips.

 

“No,” Liam groans, putting his head in his hands. “Please don’t joke about that.” His mum’s giggling like a schoolgirl, so he can’t stop himself from starting to laugh, too.

 

It’s a good thing they’ve got an appointment to get to. Otherwise, his mum never would have stopped telling Harry embarrassing stories about Liam’s childhood.

 

When he’s got Harry’s hand in his, with the midwife pointing out the small little blob that’s supposed to be their kid in just a few months, he kind of wants his mum there. Just to let her see how happy Harry seems to be about it all, too.

 

If she’d any doubt about it, after actually meeting him.

 

 

– – –

 

The first time he ends up falling asleep in Harry’s bed, it’s an accident. Liam’s not even aware of it happening until he wakes up in a bed that’s familiar, the bedding the same as the ones he’s woken up to the last four weeks, but the window too big and the colour on the wall wrong.

 

He realises he’s in Harry’s bed, and that Harry’s there too when Harry snuffles in his sleep and hums something that’s probably supposed to be words

 

His brain is still a bit slow; otherwise he would’ve gotten up as soon as he realised. It’d been easier than to lie there and watch as Harry stretches, groaning loudly as he blinks his eyes open.

 

“Your bump is so big,” Harry mumbles sleepily, putting a hand on top on Liam’s stomach, just resting it there. “Can’t believe our little peanut is getting so big.”

 

Liam just stares down at it, amazed by how big Harry’s hand seems, even as it spreads out on the stretched out t-shirt Liam’s wearing. Unlike Harry, who’s wearing only a pair of tiny underwear, shameless and so wonderful that Liam’s stomach feels tight and warm.

 

Close to week twenty, he’s showing. Properly showing even with the largest beige sweater Harry owns. His body feels so heavy, all of his limbs aching but mostly his feet. It’s a good thing he’s got Harry taking care of him, doting on him far more than Liam even thought he would.

 

The only bad thing is that Harry being so sweet, it makes it harder for Liam to keep his feeling in check. He’d a plan when he moved in with Harry; they should be friends, co-parents to a kid, but nothing more.

 

It’s getting harder and harder for Liam to convince himself that it really is what he wants. It’s even harder when he’s actually in Harry’s bed; it’s difficult to stop himself from thinking about how nice it’d been the last time, even when they both were drunk.

 

“She’s kicking,” Liam grumbles, unable to keep the fondness, delight, out of his voice. It’s so weird, it’s been a little bit more than a week since he felt it the first time, both he and Harry freaking out, giggling and holding onto each other hard, as they waited for their baby to kick again. So far, it’s just small flutters in his stomach, feeling a bit like getting kicked by a squirrel in the stomach, only from the inside.

 

Harry’s blinking his eyes open again, halfway to sleep once more. “Really,” he muses, moving his hand in tiny circles as he tries to feel it. His sleepy grin makes Liam want to kiss him, but he holds back. Instead, he takes Harry’s hand and moves it so it’s on the right spot.

 

He leaves his hand there, right on top of Harry’s.

 

“You up for some visitors today?” Harry asks, as always. It’s not needed. It’s Harry’s home more than his, even if Harry gets upset if he says it out loud.

 

“Is it your mum?” Liam’s very happy that Anne’s so nice; that she doesn’t seem to think that he wanted Harry to knock him up, just because of who Harry is.

 

Somehow they’ve managed to keep the pregnancy out of the media, but Harry’s been hinting about his management wanting them to do an interview, something to make it less of a shock when Harry suddenly has a baby. Liam’s happy as long as everybody that matters to him know.

 

The rest, he doesn’t have the energy to care about. He’s got enough to think about as it is.

 

“No,” Harry yawns, closing his eyes once again. He’s so soft and sleepy, hair loose on the pillow and hand slack on Liam’s stomach. “You don’t remember us talking about Zayn coming over and helping out with the design of the nursery.”

 

Liam’s glad Harry’s got his eyes closed, he’s sure the wince he can’t stop himself from making, is so obvious. A reason for Harry to ask why Liam’s so weird around Zayn; it’s something Liam rather doesn’t talk about. It’s not that he doesn’t like Zayn, he really does. It’s just that Zayn’s so lovely when he comes around, both sweet and fun, laughing at all the silly jokes Harry tells. He’s also so very pretty that it makes Liam hate his swollen feet and body that doesn’t quite do what Liam wants it to, clumsy and sore most of the time.

 

He’s not sure what’s Harry’s relationship with Zayn is either. No matter how many times Zayn’s there, he can’t figure out if the gossip he’s read about them were – _are_ – true or not.

 

But Harry should be able to have friends, or even a boyfriend if he so likes. “That’s fine,” Liam says, after a so long silence that he’s almost sure that Harry’s fallen asleep on him.

 

“Great,” Harry mumbles, yawning once more. He’s asleep before Liam’s got the courage to ask the question he really wants to, about Zayn and him being an item.

 

It’s something that Liam spends a lot of time thinking about, which only Louis know. Maybe Niall too, since Louis is terrible at keeping secrets from him.

 

When he falls asleep, he’s managed to push the thoughts of Harry being with someone else out of his head. Then it’s just Harry’s hand on him, and how warm and nice it is to sleep in the same bed as him that matter.

 

– – –

 

Both Zayn and Harry are giggly and bubbly happy from the wine they had to the dinner Harry cocked them all. They’re leaning over the colour samples Zayn brought with him, but Liam’s not feeling like taking a part of their lively discussion of which blue that is the right one for the nursery.

 

Liam’s frustrated; Harry’s touched him so much all day, cuddled close to him on the sofa and had generally been so sweet that Liam’s heart swelled with emotion.

 

He’d even went out and bought the right kind of ice cream for him, even when they already had three other flavours in the freezer. The frustrating part, is that Liam’s sure Harry was about to kiss him before he left, but then he’d pulled away with a small smile and a pat on Liam’s cheek

 

Now Liam wants them back on the sofa, just the two of them so he could’ve climbed up in Harry’s lap, snogged him until Harry wanted him again. He might not be as fit as he used to be before he’d swelled up with a baby, but he knows that Harry wanted him back then.

 

When Harry says his name, with an amused little smile, Liam gets up from his chair at the table and puts his plate in the dishwasher.

 

“I don’t think it matters,” he mutters, ignoring the confused look on Harry’s face. “It’s not like you wanted this to happen anyway.”

 

“What?” Harry asks, lifting his eyes from the bright turquoise colour he’s got in his hand. “That’s not true.”

 

“I bet you rather had made Zayn pregnant,” Liam rants, slamming the dishwasher shut. He’s not sure why he’s so angry all of the sudden; he’s just got so many emotions rushing through him, making him want curl up into a ball and cry. “He’d been a lovely dad. The papers would have loved that.”

 

“Zayn?” Harry asks, looking confused and upset at once. He flicks his eyes towards Zayn like he’s got answers to what’s going on. Zayn just shrugs, his forehead wrinkled as he looks at Liam with a thoughtful look.

 

Liam’s not done. Rubbing his hand comfortingly over his belly, not wanting his bump to think that he’s not happy about it, he rolls his eyes. “Like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

 

“I think I should go,” Zayn says, giving Harry’s shoulder a squeeze. When he walks past Liam, he leans in close, voice low enough for Harry not to hear as he adds, “don’t think you’ve anything to worry about, mate.” He gives Liam a small smile, one that makes Liam feel bad about being mad at him, or more like mad about what he’s dreamed up about him and Harry. “He’s bloody mad about you.”

 

Liam’s still speechless as the door slams shut after Zayn. He’s angry, but also so very confused.

 

“I think we should go to bed.” Harry walks towards him with careful, slow steps as if he expects Liam to storm off, like he’s a skittish horse.

 

Liam nods, the tiredness in his body enough to make him not want to fight. “Fine,” he sighs, not pulling away as Harry takes his hand and leads him down the hall.

 

They brush their teeth in silence, standing next to each other in front or the mirror. Coughing out a small laugh when Harry drools toothpaste, it’s hard to stay angry. He’s not even sure he _wants_ to be angry anymore, not even when Harry hasn’t really commented on what he wanted to know.

 

It’s not until Harry’s pulled the cover up, turned the light off and curls up next to him, that Liam realises they’re in the same bed again. This time it’s all on purpose, not because they’d fallen asleep talking in hushed voices with the sound of the telly muted.

 

“I don’t wish it’d been anyone else,” Harry murmurs, brushing his thumb over Liam’s collarbone, back and forth in a slow motion.

 

Liam scoffs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“I don’t,” Harry says, raising his voice. “Just because we didn’t plan for this it doesn’t mean I don’t want it as much as you do. I’ll spoil both of you, as much as you’ll allow.” He stops, waiting a moment as if he expects Liam to protest. His voice is too earnest, though. Liam can’t get any words out; the only thing on his mind is _‘I’m in love with you’_ , and it’s not something he wants to admit.

 

It’s hard not thinking it when Harry’s saying such things.

 

“It’s all so dumb,” Liam says, turning his head towards Harry. He’s barely able to see Harry, but he can feel the bed shifting as he shuffles a little bit closer, resting his head on Liam’s shoulder and a hand on top on his belly, as always.

 

Harry frowns up at him, shaking his head. “The only thing that’s dumb is that I’ve been trying to woo you, and you’ve been jealous of Zayn the whole time.” He giggles as he says the word _‘woo’_.

 

Liam’s tempted to protest, to say that he’s not been jealous. It’d been lie, though. “You’ve been trying to woo me,” he repeats after Harry when the penny drops on what Harry’s just said.

 

Nothing makes sense to him.

 

“Yeah,” Harry drawls, the giggles still there in his voice. “I’ve done my best to win you over.”

 

“Not with the kale, I hope,” Liam says, shuddering as he remembers all the stuff Harry tried to make him drink and eat in the beginning; all of it so very good for him, but also tasting horrible. He’s only teasing, the grin on his face not fooling anyone. When he thinks back, it’s pretty obvious. All the cupcakes and sweets Harry’s brought home, it’s easy to see how that’d been Harry trying to make him understand.

 

The way he’s touched him should have been a sign, too.

 

“I even told your mum that we might get married one day,” Harry says, nuzzling his nose against Liam’s skin.

 

Liam laughs, shaking his head fondly. “That was a joke.”

 

“Not really,” Harry mumbles, not sounding like he’s joking all that much. His tone is light but also serious, and it makes Liam wonder. “That’s for much later, right now I just want to kiss you again.”

 

It’s been months since he’s kissed anyone. He’d blame how fast he moves into Harry, how he makes their mouths bump into each other awkwardly, on that, but he’s too pent up to care.

 

He’d waited a long time to kiss Harry, much longer than he’s been willing to think about it.

 

His hands twine harder in Harry’s hair and pulls him a little bit closer as Harry bites his bottom lip. When Harry’s tongue traces his slightly swollen, spit-slick lip, Liam lets out a small sigh and almost melts back into the bed.

 

“You’re so pretty.” Harry’s looming over him, his hands pushing Liam’s sleep t-shirt up, fingertips brushing teasingly along his sides. The way he’s looking at him, eyes hungry and dark, makes Liam feel okay with how his body has changed. “It’s too dark in here, want to see you properly.”

 

Liam’s tempted to reach out and drag Harry’s hands back, put them where he really wants them on his body. The thought of getting to not only feel Harry’s body against his, but see him too, see the flush low down on his stomach and how hard and almost pretty his cock is, it makes it worth the wait.

 

“I’ve been drooling over you for months,” Liam admits as he sits up so he can pull the t-shirt over his head. “Louis said I was dumb not to do about it.”

 

Louis had also told him that Harry would be dumb not to want him. Many, _many_ times.

 

Harry darts forwards to push a kiss against his cheek, and then one at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve not,” he says, sounding stubborn. “I would have noticed.”

 

Snorting out a laugh, loud and disbelieving, Liam rests his head on Harry’s shoulders. “We’ve been so dumb,” he giggles, wrapping his arms around Harry’s back. It’s difficult getting as close as he wants to, the swell of his stomach making it impossible to get some friction against his cock, chubbing up fast from far too little contact.

 

Being near Harry, so wonderful and so often half-naked, has been rough for him. In many ways.

 

“Yeah,” Harry laughs, running his finger along the edge of Liam’s boxers, just pushing down the tiniest bit.

 

Liam’s still laughing when Harry presses him back into the bed, pushing a soft kiss on his lips at the same time as he fits his hand around Liam’s cock.

 

“Fuck,” Liam groans into Harry’s mouth, mostly letting himself be kissed. Not managing to make his brain work out how to kiss back and feel so great at the same time, he grins against Harry’s lips, the neediest sounds slipping out of him as Harry’s tongue dips deeper into his mouth.

 

“I want to fuck you again,” Harry murmurs, rubbing his thumb over the sticky spot where the tip of Liam’s cock is leaking precome. “See how pretty you look on my cock.”

 

Liam’s whole body tenses up as he feels a wave of pleasure roll through him. He wants it, wants to feel Harry’s cock in him, but he’s not sure he’s going to be able to hold off his orgasm, not even until he’s out of his pants. Not when Harry’s hand is so warm and tight around him, squeezing around his shaft as he starts licking his way down Liam’s chest.

 

“Please,” Liam begs, curling his fingers in Harry’s hair as he flicks his tongue over Liam’s swollen nipple. “Just do it.”

 

“It?” Harry says innocently, bending down to suck a wet kiss to Liam’s skin chest, teeth grazing his nipple. Liam’s cock throbs in Harry’s hand, wetter and wetter at the tip with precome.

 

“Fuck me, please,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing because of how rough his voice sounds. “I’ve wanted your cock for a long time.”

 

“Have you wanked yourself off thinking about it?” Harry murmurs against his skin, breathing teasingly over the wet nub; it’s enough to have Liam pull in a sharp breath. “Trying to keep quiet when you really wanted me in there, pounding your sweet arse.”

 

It’s sort of true, Liam’s gotten himself off as quietly as possible, but it’s mostly been in the shower. And always when he’d known that Harry wasn’t in the house, just in case he’d not been able to hold it in.

 

“As if you haven’t,” Liam scoffs, pushing Harry’s hands away so he can sit up. He makes a quick work of getting his underwear off, cock slapping wetly against the roundness of his belly as he pulls them down.

 

“I didn’t say that,” Harry laughs, sliding a hand down Liam’s back as he rolls over and pushes himself up so he can sit next to Harry.

 

When he’s crouched on his knees next to Harry, he can gaze down at him and take in how pretty all his skin is. How hard he is, the tip of his cock poking out over the edge of his boxers. It’s a lot, but it’s not all Liam wants.

 

“Where do you have your lube?”

 

“Under the pillow,” Harry grins dirtily, winking up at him. Just as Liam’s about to bend forward, he pulls it out, giving it to him with a lazy smile. “I might have had a use for it after you left bed this morning.”

 

“When I made you tea,” Liam says slowly, feeling his mouth go wet as he thinks about Harry getting himself off when he was so very close. How easy it’d been for him to walk in on it.

 

His fingers shake as he helps Harry get out his boxers, sliding them down his legs before tossing them behind him without a care where they land. Then they’re both naked, Liam doesn’t know where to start touching Harry – the skin high up on his thighs, cream white from lack of sun, or on his chest where he’s marked so prettily with ink.

 

“You think you’d want to ride me,” Harry muses out loud, tracing his hand so far down Liam’s back that he’s got his palm on Liam’s arse, fingertips resting close to his hole. “Bounce yourself on my cock until you come.”

 

Liam nods, feeling himself flush hotly with want as he listens to Harry’s voice, so full of pure sex. “That’d be good, yeah.”

 

His body feels even heavier than usual when he lifts himself, but Harry’s hands are there to help, pushing and pulling at him until he’d seated on Harry’s hips. He can feel Harry’s cock, rubbing wetly against his arse as he moves, Harry’s hands gripping his hips a little bit tighter as he grinds back teasingly.

 

“Such a desperate little boy,” Harry murmurs, letting go of him with one hand so he can reach for the lube Liam dropped next to them on the sheets.

 

Liam slides his hands from Harry’s stomach, up to his chest so he can rest some of his weight on him as he lifts his hips just a little. It’ll make his thighs strain, but it’ll be so much easier to get Harry’s fingers in him, which he so badly needs. “Your desperate little boy,” he groans out, feeling Harry’s wet fingertips against his hole, just teasing at his rim.

 

“Fuck,” Harry blurts out, pushing a finger into him with, just to the first knuckle before he pulls back. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that.” The next time he lets his finger slide deeper, watching Liam’s face closely with his teeth tugging at his bottom lip.

 

He’s so careful the first fucks into him, waiting for Liam to nod and slump forward; his body loose like a ragdoll.

 

“It feels as good as the last time, yeah?” Harry asks, the same time as he fits another finger into him, making him whine and nod.

 

It feels as wonderful as the last time, Harry’s fingers working him open with rough pushes until he’s sweating so much it feels like he’s about to melt.

 

When Liam’s got three fingers in him, he’s working his hips back against Harry’s hand, riding them as much as he can. He’s making tiny moans, caught in his throat as Harry’s fingertips graze his prostate, causing him to push back a little bit harder.

 

“You’re clean right,” Harry says, sounding like he already knows the answer.

 

He probably does; they both got tested since they did have unprotected sex that one time. Liam can’t regret that now, even when he knows it was irresponsible and dumb, reckless even. When he’s got Harry’s underneath him, the swell of his stomach rubbing against him as he moves into Harry’s fingers, it feels like the best mistake he’s even made.

 

Nodding his head sloppily, Liam rocks back. When Harry starts pulling his fingers out, holding him steady with his other hand, he makes a small noise, a high whine he would have been embarrassed about if he wasn’t so far gone.

 

“You don’t mind if I’d fuck you bare then?” Harry lets the slippery head of his cock slide up Liam’s crack, just snubbing against his hole before sliding higher. Then he waits, hips twitching upwards as he waits for Liam to answer.

 

It takes too long, Liam’s head blissfully blank for a moment as he tries to take in Harry’s words. It’s hard to wrap his head around it, even when he rationally knows that they’ve done it that way before.

 

“I’d like to stuff you full of come again,” Harry murmurs hotly, eyes moving down Liam’s body as he drags his fingers down.

 

“Fuck,” Liam groans, dropping his head forward. “Yeah, do it.” He lets out a shaky breath, smiling so big that he can feel his eyes crinkle at the corners as he lifts his head to look at Harry, really take in how ruffled and affected he seems to be. “Fuck me, please.”

 

“Shut up,” Harry groans, looking like he does not mean a word. “If you say stuff like that you’re going to make me come before I even get in your arse.”

 

“Like you’re one to talk,” Liam mumbles, reaching back so he can hold Harry’s cock steady. Wanting to tease, just a little bit, he sinks down so the head is threatening to pop in, and then he lifts himself up again. Then he does it again, letting it rest in him a tiny bit longer before pulling off.

 

It’s a tease both for himself, as much as for Harry, he quickly realises. Harry’s cock is so hot and hard, slick both with precome and lube.

 

“You’re so mean,” Harry grins, his hands moving all over Liam’s skin, always coming back to trace the sensitive skin on his stomach. It seems like he doesn’t even know what he’s doing, most of his focus on trying to keep still for Liam, wanting to let him set the pace.

 

His skin feels like it’s on fire as he works his way down on Harry’s cock, sinking down a little deeper before lifting his hips so it’s only the head of Harry’s cock is wedged just inside his arse.

 

When he’s fully sheathed, Harry’s cock as deep as it can get in him, he bounces once, just to see how it feels. He does it once more, wanting to feel the wonderful burn as Harry’s cock sinks into him fast, but then he starts rolling his hips at a slow pace.

 

“You can’t wait to come in me, can you?” Liam grins down at Harry, pleased by the loud groan Harry lets out. “You want to fuck me full with come.”

 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, voice sounding almost drunk with want. “That’d be so nice.”

 

“It’s not like you can fuck another baby into me,” Liam teases, not prepared for the way Harry’s fucks into him harder, making it difficult for him to form words at all.

 

“Liam,” Harry groans, hands brushing over his stomach once more, so gentle that Liam barely can feel it. Then he moves a little bit lower, wrapping his hand around Liam’s cock, the way Liam moves his body pushing his cock into the hold of Harry’s hand. “You’re such a tease, I love it. Love how you make me want to do things to you.”

 

The word _‘things’_ is so full of dirty promises that Liam comes, the rush through him taking him by surprise. It’d felt like he’s been on the edge since Harry first touched him, but he’d been so focused on Harry, that he’d kind of not noticed anymore.

 

Now, when he spills wetly between their bodies, his arse clenching in pulses around Harry, he can’t believe he missed it. He’s shaking all over, even after his cock has stopped twitching wetly in Harry’s hand, the white pearls of come dripping down his stomach to the mess on Harry’s stomach and chest.

 

“Want you to come in me,” Liam mumbles, his body loose and soft as he holds himself up over Harry. He is trying to move down on him, but his movements are sloppy and Harry’s cock slips out of him more than one, making him giggle and pop it right back in.

 

He’s a bit sensitive and sore. But at the same time, it feels like he wants Harry to fuck him again, and again, and again.

 

“You’re so amazing,” Harry groans, taking hold of Liam’s hips as he grinds into him with uneven movements.

 

It doesn’t take long before Liam can feel how hot and wet he becomes with Harry’s come deep in him. How he’s almost sloppy with it as Harry pumps his hips into him the last times, sighing as he slumps back on the bed.

 

It’s filthy and Liam loves it, even more so with how obviously turned on Harry is by it, his fingers quickly finding their way to Liam’s hole as his cock slips out, rubbing at where his come is starting to trickle out of him.

 

All of him feels warm and content as he lies down next to Harry, turning his body as much as he can into Harry. When he’s comfortable, with one of his legs thrown over Harry’s and his head on Harry’s chest, he sighs and closes his eyes.

 

“It’s a good thing I’m already pregnant,” Liam mumbles sleepily, his body tightening up as Harry’s fingers dip into him.

 

“It really is,” Harry agrees happily.

 

He must know what Liam really means, that he’d sure to become pregnant if he already weren't – but it’s not like he’d be in Harry’s bed otherwise, so maybe it’s not the thing to think about anyway. He mostly sounds like he’s happy about that Liam’s about to have their kid.

 

Sleep comes a lot easier than the night before. He’s still got things he needs to work out with Harry, but he’s too fucked out and happy to care.

 

– – –

 

The next morning, he wakes up to the smell of pancakes and Harry singing in the kitchen. It still takes him awhile to get up, his body feels sore and used in the best possible way.

 

When he finally drags himself out of bed, he finds that Harry’s put a pair of loose grey jogger on the chair next to the table. There’s no t-shirt so he just takes the joggers on, smiling when he notices that Harry’s cleared place in his drawer.

 

The joggers hang low on his hips; the drawstring pulled tight to make sure they don’t fall off him as he moves. It’s not like he cares, though. Harry’s seen all of him already.

 

“Good morning,” Harry says, turning his head towards him as Liam shuffles into the kitchen, still trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

 

Liam smiles, sure it comes off as sugary sweet. He doesn’t even have to try to rein in his feeling, now it’s okay for him to kiss Harry. Whenever he wants.

 

So he does.

 

“You don’t need to do any work today?” Liam asks, shuffling a mouthful of pancakes into his mouth.

 

Harry flips the last pancake, shaking his head even when he’s still so, so focused on what he’s got on the stove. “No, we’ve a bit of a break before we start writing again.”

 

It takes him awhile to answer, the food so delicious that he’s got to take another bite, and then another. “But didn’t you just sing something,” he says, not even bothering to phrase it as a question. He knows he’s never heard the song before, even if Harry only sang small parts of it. “Are you trying to get a head start on your team?”

 

“Oh, _that_ ,” Harry says, pausing as he turns the stove off and turns to Liam. “That one.“ He looks like a kid that’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, shrugging with one shoulder as he frowns and thinks, his forehead scrunched together.

 

Liam strokes his hand over his stomach, feeling fond as Harry opens his mouth and closes it again. It seems like the song is some kind of secret, something that he shouldn’t know about. Curious, but not wanting Harry to feel like he’s got to tell, Liam pats the chair next to him and smiles at Harry. “Come here and sits down, babe.”

 

Liam’s still curious later when they’re curled together on the sofa, Harry painting a complicated pattern on Liam’s stomach with a sharpie. When he’s done, he takes a picture, humming softly to himself.

 

“Are you going to put in up?” Liam asks, smiling down at his stomach. “On you Insta, I mean.”

 

Harry shakes his head, lifting his hips from the sofa so he can wriggle his phone into the front pocket on his skin tight jeans. “No,” he says, pressing forward to smack a soft kiss against Liam’s lip. “That one is just for me.”

 

Liam’s still smiling fondly, one finger tracing the outline of a bird that looks a lot like the swallows on Harry’s chest, when Harry kisses him again,.

 

– – –

 

The next few weeks are filled with Harry making up for the time Liam didn’t realise that they both wanted the same.

 

Mostly they spend their time in the safe space of their flat, with nice movie nights that end with them tumbling their way into bed.

 

It’s a good thing he’s allowed to touch Harry whenever he wants to now. He’s not sure if it is because he’s not holding himself back, or if it is his hormones that are making him feel like he’s got to have Harry all the time. He’s pretty sure it’s the first option, and that he’ll feel the same when he’s not pregnant.

 

They’re not always alone; Louis and Niall come to visit as often as they can, hugging him hard and long every time. Sometimes Zayn’s there, too.

 

It’s hard being away from his boys, he’s not used to it. But in a few months, they’ll move to London too, to a small flat in another part of town. Then he doesn’t have to wait more than a week in between every time he sees them.

 

His little girl will grow up with the best uncles in the world. Louis has already promised to teach her to play football, much to Liam’s delight. He’d let her do anything she wants to, no matter if it’s sports or something else.

 

He just knows that his little baby girl will love Louis, just like he does.

 

– – –

 

There are so many gifts; the table filled with brightly coloured boxes with big bows.

 

It was Harry’s idea that they should have a baby shower, wanting all their friends there with them to celebrate their daughter.

 

Now he feels spoiled.

 

Their kid probably will be showered with attention and gifts, though. So it’s time for him to get used to it, he reasons with himself as he lifts the large stuffed animal shaped like a giraffe from the pile.

 

It seems like a thing that Harry’s put in there, which wouldn’t surprise Liam if he did. Harry’s brought home so much stuff with him, the turquoise and pink nursery filled with all sorts of toys. Everything a kid ever could want.

 

That nobody seems to have figured out that Harry’s going to be a dad, Liam doesn’t understand. Not with the amount of time he must have spent in toy stores.

 

“Oi,” Louis shouts, dragging Niall by the hand towards him. “You should wait to open until we’re here. You don’t even know how to open a wrapper.”

 

Niall laughs like Louis said the funniest thing, ruffling Louis’ hair before he drops down on the sofa next to Liam.

 

He gives Liam a one armed hug, taking the plush toy from Liam’s hand as he pulls away and puts it back, right on top of the pile. “You did understand the condom joke, Li?”

 

“My mum’s here,” Liam groans, flicking his eyes toward where his mum’s talking to Harry. Probably about them getting married, moving to a house and then having two more kids.

 

“It’s not like she doesn’t know that you’re pregnant,” Niall says, laughing loudly as he pats Liam’s stomach.

 

“Hard thing to miss out on,” Louis agrees, taking a gift of from between his back. It’s wrapped, but Liam can see that it’s round, looking suspiciously like a football. “Pretty sure your boyfriend hasn’t bought your girl what she really needs yet.” He grins sharply as he puts it down, shaking his head like he’s disappointed.

 

“I’m pretty sure she won’t need a football until she can walk,” Liam giggles, poking his foot at Louis' leg; he’s too heavy, too lazy to get up and tickle Louis like he really wants to.

 

Louis shrugs, poking him back carefully. “I thought we could borrow it and play some ball in your huge flat,” he grins when Liam shakes his head, ready to protest. “Just kidding, of course, we’re not going to do that.”

 

Liam’s a bit worried, he wouldn’t put it past him.

 

“There is a park just outside, though,” Niall fills in, probably in on the plan already. “Could be a good way to spend some time when it’s sunny and warm out.”

 

“When you live in London,” Liam says, grinning back at Niall. It’s so easy to picture, his little daughter next to him and his boys there to be a part of her life.

 

Later, when he’s opened all of the gifts and it’s just his boys there with him, he’s eating leftovers of the huge rainbow coloured cake Harry ordered them.

 

The rest of them are full of cake, tired and spread out lazily on the sofa. Liam’s still hungry, though. He’s always hungry, which is the one thing that makes him long for it all to be over. Other than how big he is, and how some people stare at him when he leaves the flat to take the train home to visit his mum.

 

“You happy with your day?” Harry murmurs, shaking his head when Liam holds out the fork with cake to him.

 

He really was; it’d all been very lovely. It’s not all been for him, of course. The presents were all for their baby girl, not for him. “It was your day as much as mine,” he says, when he’s swallowed the lovely vanilla cake. “Mostly our girl’s, though.”

 

“Stop it,” Niall groans, holding his hands over his stomach. He’s mostly on his back, with the button on his jeans undone. “Stop talking, I just want to sleep. I love you and your kid, but I feel bloody sick from all that cake.”

 

“You could always sleep in my room,” Liam offers, not even remembering how it feels to be that full. He’s at a point when he’s hungry all the time, the cravings making him long for the weirdest kinds of food. “Since I don’t need it anymore.”

 

“We just call it the guest room,” Harry says, nudging him with his shoulder. “Or should we put a sign on the door, name it after you?”

 

Liam eyes the cake, and then Harry’s pleased little grin. Harry squeaks as he swipes his finger in it the frosting and puts his finger on Harry’s cheek, just where it dimples so lovely.

 

“Yeah,” Louis says, ignoring Niall’s groan as he pulls him up from the sofa. “We’re going to go to bed before the two of you have some kind of weird food sex right in front of us.” He wiggles his eyebrows, smirking when Liam blushes.

 

He regrets telling Louis about the time Harry licked chocolate sauce off of him.

 

Just to hear Louis groan, and tell them to get a room, he leans forward to lick the sugary taste from Harry’s skin. Well, not only. He does like how Harry’s skin feels under his tongue, too.

 

– – –

 

Harry’s holding the door open for him, listing names that have him shaking his head, giggling with how wrong they’re all are. Some of them plain weird even, like Clementina.

 

They’ve been to a routine check at his new midwife, highly recommended by one of Harry’s friends. Everything had looked good, with a little more than one month to go; it’d been a relief to hear.

 

Liam can’t help to worry, not even when he can feel his little girl kick like a real football player in his stomach.

 

“I can agree on Gemma,” Liam says, putting both his hands on his stomach as they stop at a red light on the way to the parking spot. It’s too many steps there, Liam feels so heavy and clumsy, wobbling like a penguin when he walks.

 

There is a girl walking past them that stares wide-eyed at Harry, and then at him. Liam’s not sure how to react; there’s really nothing he could do, she doesn’t say anything or do anything, really.

 

Harry doesn’t seem to think anything of it, probably so used to people looking at him. “Gemma is a nice name,” he agrees, taking one of Liam’s hands from his stomach and linking their fingers together.

 

Liam nods; Gemma _is_ a nice name, and Harry’s sister is a nice girl, even if she did scare Liam at first. She was just so intense as she stared at him, silently judging him as he wanted to hide behind Harry.

 

She warmed up to him quickly, so he’s totally fine with giving his baby girl her name as a second name.

 

“Maybe we should look at those baby books your mum gave us again,” Liam says, pretty sure they at least don’t have names like Clementina or Augusta in them.

 

Though, Liam could possible agree on naming her Bluebell. It’s pretty, just like he imagines their daughter.

 

“As long as we agree that Spring is out of the game,” Liam says, swinging their hands back and forth. “That’s not really okay with me. Maybe June in that case, that’s cute.”

 

“It’d be even better if we’d made her in June,” Harry murmurs, managing to make Liam feel the need to kiss Harry right there and then. He knows that the girl might be watching them still, but at that moment, he wants to feel Harry’s lips against his enough not to care.

 

Luckily, Harry doesn’t seem to care one bit that they’re out on a busy street, only pulls him as close as he can with Liam’s big belly between them.

 

They’ve still not settled on a name when they get home. Liam feels a smidge of panic because of it. It’s not long time left. He feels big as a house, every part of him aching and swollen.

 

He’s spending so much of his time folding the tiny baby clothes they’ve bought. Tiny little socks that make him pause and smile while thinking about how small his baby girl's feet will be. They’ve a lot of pink, cute little onesies with stripes and hearts, but also overalls in black and blue.

 

The cutest thing they’ve got is the lady bug outfit Harry surprised him with the other day.

 

No matter how scary the c-section seems, he can’t wait to have her out. He knows she’ll be adorable in the thing. She’ll be adorable in anything.

 

– – –

 

Liam wakes up from his nap, reaching for his phone to check if he’s got any texts from Harry. He’s away for the day visiting his mum, and he’d been so worried before he left.

 

It’s three weeks left, Liam should be able to hold off a little bit longer. So he just kissed Harry goodbye and waved him off. It was a near thing he’d to push Harry bodily out the door, with how little he wanted to leave.

 

Then Liam had gone back to bed, the still warm sheets quickly lulling him back to sleep.

 

He doesn’t have one or five texts from Harry like he expected; he’s got fifty-seven unread texts. Pushing himself up into sitting position, taking his time to shuffle back so he can lean his back against the headboard, he frowns at his phone.

 

Opening it up, he sees that Louis has sent him ten texts. It feels like a great place to start; he’s a little bit worried that something’s happened to Harry, but there are also messages from people he sure doesn't know about him and Harry, people he hasn’t even talked to in ages.

 

That makes him more confused that worried.

 

‘ _I hate the sun!! Fucking idiots!’_ one text reads. Liam can almost hear Louis’ voice, irritated and loud.

 

“The sun?” Liam mouths to himself, scanning the rest of the texts quickly. As he taps the link Louis has sent in one text, he understands it a little bit better.

 

There on top of the page is a picture of him and Harry outside the clinic. It’s blurry, but there is no way to mistake Harry for anyone else.

 

“Oh,” Liam mumbles, scrolling down on his phone. There are more photos of them; one where they’re kissing, and one of them both grinning as they pull apart.

 

There is even a photo of when he’s looking down at his stomach with a smile. Harry seems so happy, fond and sweet as he smiles at Liam. Therefore, it’s hard for Liam to understand the nasty thing the paper has written about him. About Harry.

 

He’s not sure Harry will be able to talk, but he still feels the need to call him. There must be hundreds of people wanting to talk to him – his management probably most important. It’s not like they didn’t know this could – would happen even – but Liam still feels blown away by how big deal it seems to be to some people.

 

Maybe he doesn’t feel like that because it’s not news to him.

 

It’s not like they expected to have a secret baby, but they’d kind of forgotten about anyone that wasn’t in their happy little baby bubble. Not matter how much Harry’s team had tried to get him to talk, Harry didn’t want that.

 

He doesn’t have time to call Harry before his phone rings. When he sees that it’s Harry, he answers at once.

 

“You alright?” Harry asks the first thing.

 

Liam nods, forgetting for a short moment that Harry can’t see him. “Yeah,” he says, his voice still rough with sleep. “Not so fun to know that my mum will see that headline, though.”

 

“At least the photos were nice,” Harry says comfortingly, making Liam smile since it was just what he’d thought too. “That’s something.”

 

“Have you had a talk about what to do now?” Liam already feels a bit calmer, Harry’s voice soothing away the stress so easily. “About media and stuff, I mean.”

 

“I’ll do a short interview with Nick on the radio.” Harry pauses as if he’s trying to think through if there’s more he’d promised to do.

 

“Did they give you a talking to?” LIam asks, shuffling down so he’s on his back again. It’s really the only way he can lie at the moment, the mountain of pillows behind his back making the back pain less insistent.

 

He really needs Harry back so he can have one of those lovely massages again.

 

“Both from my mum and my management, yeah,” Harry laughs. “My mum went on about that I should have told earlier for your sake. My management mostly tried to tell me that I’ve been stupid not to tell, without actually saying those words.”

 

“It’s everywhere isn’t it?” Liam asks, not having enough energy to go looking for it. He’s not even sure he wants to see it all.

 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “It kind of is. It wouldn’t have been any different, if we had told people. This way we at least had some time to ourselves.”

 

It’s the reason the both agreed that not telling might be good for them; they needed the time to get to know each other properly.

 

“I love you,” Liam blurts out, shocked by his own words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. He’s never said it, not out loud. He’s been in love with Harry for a long time, saying the three little words that mean so much, was not planned, though.

 

Harry’s silent on the other end for such a long time that Liam worries he might have dropped the phone. Then he mumbles, “I love you, too.” He sounds so giddy that Liam’s grinning to himself, so big that his cheeks puff out and he can barely see from how hard he’s squeezing his eyes together.

 

“And we’re having a baby,” Liam says happily, poking a finger at his bump. It’s so big now; it’s almost impossible for him to think that he’s going to be a little bit bigger still.

 

“That we are,” Harry says, pulling away to shout something at somebody. Probably his mum.

 

Liam waits for Harry to come back, murmuring sorry over and over. Then he says, “I’ll listen to you on the radio.”

 

“I might talk a bit about you,” Harry teases, trying to keep his tone light. Liam can still hear that he’s nervous. He’s used to being on stage, being interviewed, but this is a little bit different.

 

“You should,” Liam says, wanting more than anything to be there and hold Harry’s hand. “I’m okay with that.”

 

– – –

 

He’s walking around in the flat, giggling to himself when he finds something particularly funny on the radio. When Harry’s voice fills the kitchen, he needs to stop with the task of getting the counter clean from sticky ice cream and sit down.

 

Nick and Harry talk about Harry’s next album, how it’s going and so on for a few minutes. Liam’s not really listening, his stomach in knots as he waits for what he knows is about to come.

 

“But that’s not the reason we’re talking today,” Nick says, changing subject easily. “There are some rumours that you’re about to be a dad.”

 

“I would say that it’s not a rumour,” Harry says. “I _am_ about to be a dad.”

 

Liam’s heart swells with emotion, fondness and love almost making him feel nauseous. “That’s your dad talking,” he mumbles, softly stroking the swell of his stomach. “He’s going to love you so much.”

 

Liam listens to Harry telling a short version of who Liam is, without telling them how they met. That’s a bit too private to tell, something the tabloids would sell as something scandalous. He’s asking people to respect their privacy, saying that they’ll need the time to be a family.

 

Nick hums and adds small questions to keep Harry on the right track, but mostly he lets Harry talk.

 

“You’ve something you want to play for us today, yeah?” Nick asks, dragging Harry back on track when he starts rambling about tiny baby feets.

 

“Mostly it’s for Liam,” Harry says softly, “and for our little Spring.”

 

“You’re not a Spring, are you?” Liam asks the bump, waiting to see if she kicks in agreement or not. For once, it doesn’t feel like someone is trying to kick him in the kidneys. He takes that as a sign that she agrees with him.

 

“That’s fitting for a spring baby,” Nick says, sounding like he means it. “A good name.”

 

Liam’s not as opposed as he used to be; it’s kind of charming, in a way. It’s still not as pretty as he thinks his baby girl deserves.

 

“I’ve worked on this for awhile,” Harry says, clearing his throat. “I’d not planned to play it until after our baby girl had been born, but this feels like the time.”

 

When Harry starts singing, he stills. The melody is familiar, Harry’s voice crooning out soft words about sudden love and change.

 

It’s the song Harry started on all those months ago, the one he didn’t want Liam to hear.

 

Liam can understand why now. It’s the loveliest surprise he’s ever gotten, except for the one in his tummy. He feels warm all over and he can’t stop smiling. His eyes are wet with tears, but he’s never been happier.

– – –

 

In the end, they name their girl Logan Bluebell Gemma. Logan for short.

 

It’s so much easier to put a name to her when he’s got her in his arms, Harry carefully skimming his fingers over her, just to see that she’s real. She’s so small; they’re both scared to hurt her if they hold her too hard.

 

“You did so well,” Harry murmurs, smiling up at Liam. “Our girl is so pretty.”

 

Logan’s skin is a bright pink still, her cheeks puffy. On top of her head, she’s got a tuft of curly hair. Liam can’t help thinking that she looks like Harry, her green eyes so much like her father’s.

 

“I think we both did okay,” he says softly.

 

Their daughter wasn’t planned, nothing about them were. He still doesn’t regret a thing. He couldn’t be happier than he is at that moment.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr post](http://pandadepanda.tumblr.com/post/128724636569/by-my-side-misslii-one-direction-band)   
> 


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